In Between Two Worlds
by Saturn10710
Summary: "You should be afraid of me. You're much less intelligent than I realized. I suppose Mudbloods really are dumb if you still talked to me after knowing my father kills people like you!" "Then why haven't you killed me yet, Nott?" Elizabeth Fairchild. Hufflepuff. Mudblood. Theodore Nott. Slytherin. Future Death Eater. Watch as their worlds collide and nothing remains the same.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! So I actually started this story a few years ago, and sometimes I'll come back to it and add something, but I decided to finally be brave enough to post it. I opened up the document and realized that over time I've written about 160 pages already which is more than 60,000 words, and they were all sitting there with no one to read them so...here you are! It's a little different from my other story, and it's my first time writing third-person, but I think I actually prefer writing that way. Anyways, I hope you like it. Or not, I don't mind.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. This story is just for fun, to practice my writing and also because I still can't let go of the wizarding world after all this time.**

 **(Always)**

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Chapter 1-

The first time Elizabeth Fairchild met Theodore Nott was in the library one day during fifth year. Of course, they'd known each other before – or rather, _of_ each other – seeing as they had some classes together, but they had never spoken to each other or even acknowledged the other's presence. Until now.

Elizabeth, or rather, Lizzie as her friends called her, was in the library to write an essay for Potions. It was only the second week of school and there was already so much homework! She found a book and made to find a table to sit at. She sighed as she realized all the other tables were full of people, and she was frankly not in the mood. She spotted one in the corner, and there was a Slytherin boy sitting there quietly reading a book.

Sure, she could have sat anywhere, but seeing as she wanted somewhere quiet to work, sitting at a table with her fellow housemates where they were more likely to chatter about some random nonsense than doing any actual _work_ (seriously, where was Madam Pince these days?) would surely not help her at all. Besides, she was feeling daring, so she approached the notoriously unapproachable Slytherin.

.

"Excuse me, can I sit here?" Said a cheery voice. Theodore Nott looked up to see a blonde-haired girl staring at him with a smile on her face, yellow robes indicating she was a Hufflepuff. She was in his year, he knew that much, but he had forgotten her name. He never paid much attention to those outside of his own house. The boy ignored the girl, going back to his reading before the question was then repeated.

Theodore did not even look up when he asked, "Why?"

"Umm…because I don't want to sit at some random table with pesky Ravenclaws complaining about my lack of intellectual skills," She pointed to a few nearby tables filled with Ravenclaws, "And people from my own house can be distracting. Same goes for sitting with the Gryffindors. And to be honest, those friends of mine at that table," she pointed to a table just barely out of view, "actually hate me. And I hate them too so…" Theo didn't know how she could say all that while still in a cheery and happy voice. He shook it off. It wasn't his concern.

"So?" Theodore said sharply. He didn't care that he was offending the girl and coming off as rude. He didn't really care for much at the moment. She'd interrupted in his reading!

"Actually, now that I think about it," The Hufflepuff continued (ugh! Why was she still here?), "the library seems unusually packed today…"

"Probably the potions essay." Theodore answered curtly, more to get rid of her than to quench her curiosity.

She tilted her head, resting her hands on the chair in front of her, right across from Theo. "Well yeah, it's one of the bigger ones. But curiously, there are barely any Slytherins here…" She trailed off, looking at him with a meaningful stare.

It was then that Theo finally looked up from his book to catch her stare and allowed a smirk to grace his lips. It was common knowledge that Snape favored Slytherins. Most had filled half their essays with random nonsense, yet they were sure to receive a good grade nonetheless. Because it was Snape. And everyone knew it. That's why everyone else was off working their bums off while most Slytherins were either off in the common room or just relaxing outside. Theo, however, finished his essay much earlier than any of the buffoons in his house and then went on to enjoy the quiet company of the library and its books with seemingly infinite knowledge.

Today had been a bit different. With the room packed with so many students determined to get a pass grade on this one assignment, it wasn't as quiet as it usually was.

Theo raised an eyebrow and the girl smiled back at him. Ugh! Why wasn't she just leaving? Either she was just too dim to understand that he wanted her to go away, or she was just being stubborn. He guessed it was a mixture of both. Well, he would have to make it clearer for her. "Why are you still here?" He said, irritated and angry.

"Well I was just _asking_ if I could sit here, it's not like I'm trying to _bother_ you or anything," She said, losing the hint of cheeriness in her voice, clearly affronted by his tone of speaking. But then she gave a chirpy smile, making him wonder how one could pretend to be so happy and nice towards another who was offending them. Even her tone of voice became cheerful again, "In any case, I was just waiting for an answer."

He blinked, before realizing that he may have been a bit harsh, although she _was_ being somewhat irritating. He was angry. He wasn't having a good day. Sure, he had the opportunity to slack on Snape's essay (not that he did, and would ever do, in any case), but _nothing_ made up for the letter his father had sent him early in the morning. And then he had come here to read and set his mind at peace, but this annoying girl had to come and ruin it.

"Sorry," He mumbled. The young witch looked startled (and she had good reason to be) before quickly composing herself, giving him a smirk of her own.

"What was that?"

Theo was tempted to bang his head on the table. The brunette had clearly heard him right the first time, she just wanted to torment him. She probably knew that he wasn't much of an apology-giver.

He spoke a little louder, "Sorry, okay? Are you happy now?"

He wasn't thinking straight. He shouldn't have apologized. It's not what the Notts were supposed to do. But what could Theo do? He hadn't had a good day, and then this girl just came into this mess, that's why he was acting so weirdly. He blamed it all on his father. If he'd never sent him the letter, his day wouldn't be miserable and he certainly would not be so out of his mind as to _apologize_ to this girl.

The girl's smile widened, "So can I sit here?"

For a moment he said nothing, then he went back to his book, completely ignoring her. Lizzie took that as a "no" and turned around, starting to walk away when she heard his voice again,

"Well I never said you couldn't." Lizzie saw that he hadn't even looked up from his book again, as if he hadn't said anything, yet she smiled and took a seat across from Nott, setting down her bag, pulling out a quill and parchment, and opened up her book.

They sat in silence for a while, neither acknowledging the other. Theo finally looked up and over at her. He tried to remember her name. What was it? It was Fair-something…Fairchild? He didn't recognize it from anywhere, so it must be a muggle name. He scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to recall her first name. He thought he'd heard people calling her "Lizzie."

Whatever her name was…well, she was pretty. Sort of. Not in the conventional sense, but in a more natural way. Her long, blonde hair seemed to glow golden when it shined in the sun (and as their table was right up against the window, on a sunny day, Theo got to admire this trait). Her eyes were hazel and her skin was lightly tanned. Much darker than his pale complexion. And her smile (when it wasn't aimed at him to annoy him) was bright and overall she echoed an epitome of happiness and light. Everything he was not.

But then he remembered why he'd never paid any attention to this girl, not even bothering to remember her name. She was a Mudblood. That was it. If the fact that she was in Hufflepuff wasn't enough, then her lack of magical parents certainly meant she didn't need to be remembered. Theo only had to associate with purebloods of high status. In some cases, half-bloods, such as Snape, but he only needed to know those in his parents' social circle. And now that the Dark Lord had returned, the list extended to include his followers (although most of them were part of his parents' social circle anyway). But he had no need to associate himself with a nobody. With someone of no status and no magical bloodline. They offered no benefits for his family's status.

Theo resisted the urge to sneer at her when he realized her bloodline. But he didn't, because he was better than Malfoy and could pretend to be…let's say…more amiable towards Mudbloods than the others, because that would help keep the Dark Lord's return secret for longer.

But the fact that he'd apologized to her. The thought alone made him want to gag. Theodore Nott, _apologizing_ to a _Mudblood._ Letting her sit with him. But now she had seated herself and made herself comfortable and he couldn't get rid of her. And he couldn't just get up and leave either. He was here first, and he didn't want her to think that he was leaving because of her (even if he was).

No, she was just Mudblood. A nobody, and so she should have no effect on him, right? Right, so he would just pretend she wasn't there. That was easier said than done. He wasn't used to people invading his personal space. The other Slytherins had quickly realized that he would only offer them glares if they invaded his space and so usually just left him alone.

.

Lizzie looked up and caught him staring at her. She gave him a smile, though she felt uneasy under his intense gaze.

 _This is the son of an ex-Death-Eater you're sitting across from,_ she reminded herself. And…if what Harry Potter was saying was right…if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was really back…than there was a chance that Nott's father had returned to his Death-Eater duties.

She knew that Nott Sr., along with many others, claimed to be Imperiused after You-Know-Who had disappeared fourteen years ago. But according to what her friends had told her, many still suspected Nott and a few others of lying. There was so much evidence pointing to it.

Then again, she didn't really have any knowledge of her own to rely on. She was muggle-born, after all.

She shook her head slightly to clear her thoughts, then continued on her essay. It was hard. Of course, being Potions – especially from Snape – it was bound to be difficult but this one was one of the most challenging to complete. Which explained all the people in the library. They were all in her year, too.

"That's wrong."

She looked up, surprised. Nott was nodding at her paper. "I'm sorry, what is?"

He pointed to the last line she had just written. "That."

She raised her eyebrows. Was he watching her this whole time? Or did he just happen to look up at the same time she wrote down the properties of some potion she couldn't even remember how to pronounce?

But the question that came to her lips was, "You can read upside down?" She was sitting across from him, after all.

.

Theo sighed and resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. He'd glanced over to see if she was still there because other than the scratching of her quill and occasional sigh she hadn't made any noise. Which surprised him considering her earlier eagerness to talk loudly and endlessly.

Well, he couldn't miss the glaringly obvious mistakes she'd made. They were niggling in his brain and he couldn't just sit there and watch someone write down something so stupid. She'd spelled the name of the potion wrong and listed some of its "properties" that were untrue. He couldn't let anyone, especially not her, get away with this!

Although, he had to admit, she definitely wasn't as idiotic as he'd first assumed. What was easy to him was often what others struggled with. Academically, at least. And, he excelled in Potions. It was his best class, but Snape rarely ever praised him or even noticed him, passing over him to save all his praises for his favorite student instead, Malfoy. And the other teachers never praised him for his good work. He simply got good grades and went along with it. But he didn't mind. In fact, unlike Malfoy, he enjoyed sitting in the back of the classroom, barely being noticed by anyone. He preferred the peace and quiet.

But while he never helped people with their homework, he couldn't just sit there and watch her continuously getting things wrong. It kept nagging him, his brain telling him to _just do something_. So even though he tried to resist, he ended up caving and pointed to where the girl had just written down an utterly incorrect statement.

And what did she say in return?

 _"You can read upside down?"_

Really? Not even a thank you? He had just saved her some of Professor Snape's wrath, and she responded by asking if he could read upside down? How ungrateful!

He grit his teeth. "Obviously."

"Oh, well, um…what's wrong about it?" She asked.

Theo sighed, and listed all the properties of the potion, along with all the things that could go wrong with it.

"You know all of that off the top of your head?" She said, eyes widening. She seemed shocked that he knew all of that but also impressed.

Still no gratitude from her. What should he have expected? She obviously had no class or even knew the social rules of being polite.

But he couldn't just say that out loud.

"Why? Do I seem like someone who wouldn't know this off the top of my head?"

"No! I didn't mean…" For once, she seemed to get flustered, if her reddening face was any indication, and simply gave up on the conversation before picking up her quill to scratch out the past sentence and rewrite it.

Theo went back to his book before hearing her mutter, "thanks, by the way."

He didn't respond, but let a smile grace his lips, hidden from her by the book in front of his face.

However, glancing over again, he couldn't stop himself from correcting all her other errors. He pointed to another spot on her paper.

"This is spelled wrong." He pointed to the word above it. "So is this. Snape will murder you."

.

"Oh!" Lizzie said, still shocked from the fact that he was helping her. Still, he seemed irritated so she decided to just look up the spelling of the specific ingredients herself in the textbook.

"Thank you," She said again, sincerely grateful because Snape's wrath was not something she wanted to face.

She was grateful, but also embarrassed. She wasn't stupid. No, she was decent at Potions. She received good marks in all her classes.

However, as a Hufflepuff, other students – and some teachers too – often underestimated her and her fellow Housemates. They viewed Hufflepuff as an inferior House, and assumed that Hufflepuffs didn't care much for grades, even though they did.

Many in Hufflepuff often felt the need to prove themselves. To prove that they could do as well as or even better than any other House. Well, maybe not Ravenclaw, but other than that. They were not dumb. Or stupid. Or unintelligent. But no one seemed to see that.

And they were not all nice, happy, trusting, easygoing people either. Not all the time. Maybe it took a little longer to get on the bad side of a Hufflepuff, but it still happened.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Lizzie wrote the last word of her last sentence and put a period with a satisfying, "there, done."

"Talking to yourself now? I knew you were mental."

Oh, yeah, she'd almost forgotten about the Slytherin. Well, sort of, besides the somewhat-scratch that, _very_ -unexpected help he'd given her. And he seemed to not want to talk to people, so why was he initiating conversation now?

On another note, if she'd had half a brain to remember he was still there, she would've held her tongue. Lizzie actually did talk to herself quite a bit. And it wasn't just simply muttering under her breath, as she'd done now. No, when she was alone she would often talk to herself for lengthy periods of time. And she wasn't crazy or insane. She wasn't mad. No, her parents had already taken her to a psychiatrist a few years back who had declared her perfectly sane.

It was just a rather curious habit that was extremely prevalent when she was younger and had lasted until now, although now she made sure that she was completely alone before letting herself speak. It helped her organize her thoughts, and she'd heard that many sane people had the same habit.

However, to the general public, a person talking to themselves was a sure sign of mental instability, no matter how untrue it was.

To Lizzie, however, it was just a habit of hers that wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried (she'd always end up talking out loud to herself when she was thinking hard, without even noticing). It was okay, because it helped her think, and really, who had to know if she only did it when she was alone?

And although Lizzie knew she shouldn't care about what others thought, at Nott's words, she felt herself go a little pink. She hated how she was always able to be embarrassed so easily at even the slightest things.

She wanted to say something like _so what if I'm talking to myself? Why should you care?_ Or something along those lines, but she couldn't risk it.

She didn't want Nott to think she was crazy, or for him to spread it around to the other Slytherins. And she knew she was overreacting, because how could Nott find out her habit only out of her reaction to a rather snarky comment he made?

Still, she was a worrier, and so she looked up from her finished paper, focused her eyes into the best glare she could manage, and said,

"Do you have to be so unfriendly all the time? I mean, seriously, I just finished my essay and now you make fun of me for being satisfied with finishing it? It was grueling!"

Argghh! Curse her mouth for speaking before her brain!

.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't serious. People like you always overreact to the smallest of things."

Theo himself didn't know why he'd spoken when she'd finished. He could've just waited until she packed up her bags and left, and then he could have his peace and quiet again.

No, instead he had to say something that obviously set her off, although he didn't know why it made her seem so angry. He prided himself on being good at reading people, and she seemed extremely angry while also…embarrassed?

Either way, he supposed it was just amusing conversing with this girl. Usually he wouldn't give someone like her the time of day, but it was actually kind of nice to talk to someone outside of his House. Someone new. A stranger. He would never admit it to her though. Or to anyone, for that matter.

.

Lizzie knew she did overreact, although it was a rather cruel joke to say. "Sorry, I tend to say a lot of things without thinking."

 _Mostly because I have a tendency to think out loud anyways,_ she thought. But on the outside, she plastered on a smile while she packed up her things.

Nott didn't give any indication he heard her, as he'd gone back to that book of his.

Lizzie frowned.

Wasn't it common courtesy to listen when someone was speaking to you? Or at least _pretend_ to listen? Lizzie talked a lot, yes, but that didn't mean she wasn't a great listener. She would never leave someone hanging after they'd just apologized. She'd give an indication that she accepted it!

Okay, whatever. This was just something small. Lizzie didn't want to get needlessly angry over something petty.

"By the way," Lizzie started, smiling again, "thanks a lot for your help. I really appreciate it. I'll make sure to return the favor sometime."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Nott asked, still looking at his book.

"Er," She was at a loss of what to say. How _would_ she do that? Ugh, she should've just not offered to return the favor. This was so embarrassing.

"Whatever, I don't need anything from you," Nott said harshly, "Besides, what could _you_ possibly do for me?"

Lizzie frowned again. Even if he didn't want anything, she normally wasn't one to just let a favor go unpaid. Especially since this one saved her from Snape's wrath. And it wasn't like he was her friend or anything. Because with friends, you always do things for them knowing they will always do things for you too.

Granted, it was only homework. And he was being incredibly rude about her goodwill. But she still felt uncomfortable because he'd helped her without her asking. It made her feel as if she was indebted to him somehow.

"Well, my offer still stands. If you want anything, don't hesitate to ask!" Lizzie picked up her bag and thanked him again before walking out of the library as fast as she could.

.

Theo didn't even know why she bothered. It was only homework, although evading Snape's wrath was definitely something to be thankful for. And how stupid, to think that _he_ would ever ask _her_ for a favor? He never even asked his own Housemates for anything. Ever.

Still, it was new, unexpected. He didn't think she would be _that_ grateful to him that she would promise him something in return. He assumed most would just drop it and not bother trying to pay him back, especially since he was a Slytherin.

Maybe it was just a Hufflepuff thing. He'd never had a conversation with one before. And this one seemed interesting. Maybe the next time he saw her, he wouldn't be completely averse to talking with her.

He just hoped the others in the library didn't notice or care, because he knew how fast gossip could spread at Hogwarts, and he _really_ didn't need to deal with the other Slytherins questioning why he let a Mudblood sit near him or why he helped her – it was a good thing he sat in that one secluded corner of the library.

He still didn't know why he helped her himself, really. He just did. Besides, in all of his days reading in his corner in the library, she'd been the only one to approach him.

.

Lizzie glanced over her shoulder one last time, thinking about this curious person who was both rude, apologetic, and helpful to her all within the span of a few hours.

And she could've sworn, before leaving, she'd seen the faintest hint of smile on the boy's face.

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 **Next chapter will be out soon! Please follow, favorite, and review!**

 **~Saturn10710~**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, back for more? Thanks.**

 **Anyway, I wrote this chapter years ago and I'm looking back and thinking on how weird it is. Oh, well, whatever.**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Lizzie (she disagrees), nothing else.**

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Chapter 2-

The second time Elizabeth Fairchild met Theodore Nott was in the kitchens a few days later. Okay, well, not exactly the kitchens, but near the area.

It was after hours. And despite Hufflepuffs being known for their honesty, well, sometimes they did break the rules. And it just happened to be a night where Lizzie felt like breaking the rules. Because she was hungry at this particular time at night. And she wanted to go to the kitchens for food. And she'd actually managed to complete all the homework that was due tomorrow. And Hannah Abbott, the prefect in her year who also shared a dorm with her (who also happened to be her best friend), was on patrol today. Conveniently leaving her prefect schedule in her unlocked drawer since Hannah, being Hannah, already knew her schedule by heart, hence not needing to take it with her. Inexplicably leaving it for Lizzie to find (er, not that she was snooping through her friend's things, nope, of course not) and realize that it contained _all_ the prefects' patrol schedules. Hence Lizzie taking advantage of these instances and figuring out which way would be the best way to get to the kitchens without running into a prefect. Hence, breaking the rules.

Theo also happened to be hungry at this particular time of night on this particular night of the week. And he also happened to know where the kitchens were. However, unlike Lizzie, he did not have the advantage of knowing the best way to get to the kitchens without running into a prefect. Because despite having a prefect, Draco Malfoy, sharing his dorm, he would never just snoop in Draco Malfoy's dresser. Moreover, Draco always kept it locked with charms and jinxes, and while Theo would no doubt be able to get past them easily, he didn't feel like bothering with it. Besides, Theo didn't feel comfortable with snooping through his classmate's (not friend, never friend. Theo didn't need friends) things. So he just went, not worrying about prefects or anything.

It was on this night, where Elizabeth Fairchild was acting remarkably cunning for a Hufflepuff and Theodore Nott was acting remarkably honest for a Slytherin, that they had their second meeting.

.

Lizzie had her wand out, a small light on the end, and was making her way towards the kitchen. The rumbling in her stomach wouldn't stop. This was only her third time in all of her years at Hogwarts where she snuck out after hours, and she couldn't stop the nervous butterflies in her stomach.

Sure, if she was caught, the worst would probably just be detention, but no one was really sure these days. Not with Umbridge – sorry, _Professor_ Umbridge – gaining more and more influence at the school. It'd just been announced in the _Daily Prophet_ that morning that she had been made "Hogwarts' High Inquisitor," and she'd already shown up in Lizzie's History of Magic class earlier that day.

Although, the class went much the same way as it always did, with Professor Binns droning on an on after barely acknowledging Umbridge. The only differences were the sounds of Umbridge's scratching of her quill and that most of the students remained awake because she was there.

So Lizzie knew that she really should be more fearful of their new professor since she didn't know what Umbridge's consequences were for sneaking out after curfew. She shuddered at the thought of being caught by the toad herself.

However, she thought her chances should be pretty good, considering that the kitchens weren't even that far from her common room.

Well, she thought that until she heard a soft _meow_ near her feet.

 _Crap_.

Why couldn't she have remembered Filch and his cat? Argh! Mentally face-palming, Lizzie quickly turned the other way, hearing footsteps approach the cat. She forced her breathing to remain reasonably normal, and turned another corner, where she would wait for Filch to leave.

Which is where she sensed the presence of someone else. She raised her wand, the light illuminating his startled face.

"Nott?" She asked, surprised. "Why are you here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said flatly. "And get that thing out of my face."

Lizzie realized she was pointing the light right into his eyes, and quickly lowered it. "Sorry."

"So," he started, leaning against the wall, "Why are you here? Aren't Hufflepuffs supposed to be the perfect, model students who never break rules?"

"Well aren't Slytherins supposed to hate on people like me instead of helping them with homework?" Lizzie shot back.

He blinked, then pushed himself off the wall. "Touché. Still, you haven't answered my question."

"I asked first."

"You don't give in easily, do you?"

"No. Especially not to people like you."

.

Theodore turned to face her. " _People like me?_ What is that supposed to mean?"

The girl in front of him sighed. "You know, Slytherin, Pureblood supremacist, rude, thinks they're better than everyone else, etc." she listed, ticking off each on her fingers. She looked him in the eye. "People like you. In a nutshell."

He stared, not knowing what to say. He really shouldn't be surprised. He knew what everyone outside of his own house thought of him and his fellow Slytherins. And especially to Mudbloods, who didn't understand Wizarding society. They didn't understand how much significance was put into coming from a good family, a Pureblood family. They were outsiders, so of course he was better than them, because he understood, and he was a part of it. That was how Wizarding society had always been, and it always would be. Especially with the Dark Lord rising again.

But he couldn't just tell her that. Besides, she wouldn't understand. So he told her just that.

"You don't understand."

"Oh really?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Then why don't you explain it to me so I do understand?"

"You wouldn't understand even if I explained in elementary terms," He said.

"You think I'm stupid? Seriously?" She scoffed, clearly offended. "I get decent marks in all of my classes!"

"There is a difference between academic knowledge and knowledge that comes from experience or circumstance." He smirked. "Besides, would you have gotten good marks on that last paper in Snape's class if it weren't for me? And going back to what you said previously, I don't think describing a person as _rude_ when that person helped you with said paper does justice to the person."

.

Lizzie felt her cheeks go red. It was a good thing it was dark and her lit wand was pointing away from her so he couldn't make fun of her embarrassment. She didn't want to, but she had to admit to herself that he did have a point about academic knowledge and other knowledge gained from experiences. Sometimes there were things that you couldn't just learn from a book, or having someone else tell you (sorry, Granger). If you hadn't experienced it, then you had to be willing to view things differently to then gain an understanding of something different. Such as different types of people with different views.

Perhaps she was wrong to list all of those things. Those were just stereotypes. And even though stereotypes do have some basis in truth, she realized that each person has individual traits that makes them whole. And maybe Nott wasn't all of those stereotypes, and she shouldn't just write him off as being the epitome of those traits. He was his own person, right? Just as she wasn't everything a Hufflepuff is _supposed_ to be.

Honestly, she really shouldn't have listed them. Because if he really was those things, provoking him wouldn't be the best idea. What if he had hexed her!

But he didn't, and he seemed to not really care all that much about what other people thought of him. Not enough to be explicitly angry, at least. Just slightly irritated.

And he did help her, didn't he? Maybe he wasn't completely a typical rude Pureblood Slytherin. After all, he hadn't said anything about her blood or magic yet, which was strange for a Pureblood Slytherin with a – possible – Death Eater for a dad. Well, perhaps he just didn't know what her blood was. And when he did find out, then she'd truly see how rude he could be.

That was just a thought, though. Maybe he did know her blood but he just didn't care.

"Fairchild," She heard a voice call her, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"You're muttering to yourself."

Lizzie froze. It had only been for about a minute, maybe even less, but she realized she'd let her thoughts take hold of her and she was muttering to herself. Immediately, she shut her mouth and forced herself to turn to Nott, trying to keep her embarrassment from showing, even in the dim light.

"Was I?" Lizzie let out a small chuckle, trying to keep calm. "Well, anyways, I'm sorry about what I said."

.

Theo raised his eyebrows. He was not used to receiving such genuine apologies from others, even from those in his own house. But Fairchild appeared to be sincere in her words, even though she'd gone into her own head momentarily.

Then he realized that they'd been standing there for a while, and she seemed to realize as well.

"Well, I was heading to the kitchens," She finally spoke. "You?"

"I was going there too."

"Really? Then let's go together! I mean, do you even really know where it is?"

"Of course I do! Malfoy and I have come down here before!" He didn't want to admit that he had, for a moment, gotten lost and had to find his way back. He was a little glad she was there, yet at the same time…he'd have to deal with her the whole time! Maybe he should've stayed in the common room this time?

And what was it with this girl that made him want to talk? He never really had full-fledged conversations, and this, whatever it was, was the closest thing he'd had to one in a while.

But Fairchild made him want to talk. Granted, it wasn't exactly _amiable_ conversation, but for some reason, when she made him irritated, he couldn't just ignore her as he usually did with others in his house. Perhaps because she was a Hufflepuff. A Mudblood. He couldn't have someone as low as her get away with irritating him. And she was interesting.

He sighed and nodded his head in affirmation, and she smiled.

 _She better not think we're friends or something._ No. A _Mudblood_ , friends with _him_? What a joke! No, tolerating her presence was only because it was amusing to talk to her. It brought something new to his mainly mundane life at school. He could tolerate her impure bloodline, if it meant getting some enjoyment out of it.

He started forward but she grabbed his arm and tugged him back.

"Not this way. There's a prefect about to turn the corner."

"How do you know?"

"Hannah Abbott conveniently leaves her dresser unlocked."

He didn't exactly understand what she meant by that, but then again, he barely even remembered who Hannah Abbott was. Just another Hufflepuff girl in his year who happened to be a prefect.

Either way, Fairchild obviously knew her way around this area a lot better than he did, so he let her lead him away and to the kitchens. After she let go of his arm, of course.

.

They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence – actually, no, scratch that. It was _extremely awkward_ silence. For Lizzie, at least. Sometimes she cursed herself for being so friendly. She could've just walked away, and let him be caught by the prefects or whatever. Actually, weren't Slytherins supposed to be the ones who were sneaky?

Oh well. She'd just decided she wasn't going to listen to stereotypes, but that didn't lessen her nervousness at walking to the kitchens in the middle of the night together. Especially considering he was a Slytherin, Pureblood, a (possible) Death Eater's child, and generally known for being unfriendly.

Why was he talking to her? Just why? Well, it _was_ she who initiated the conversation back in the library and now, but he's the one who decided to help her, and decided to respond to her, and decided to come with her to the kitchens.

She couldn't figure him out. He was rude, then apologetic, then helpful, then rude, and then, perhaps, somewhat _friendly?_

When they finally reached the painting leading to the kitchens, she sighed in relief - then quickly checked to make sure he hadn't heard. He didn't give any indication he had, which set her heart at ease even more.

Yes, she was friendly. And no, she wasn't exactly scared of the boy. But he was still a Death Eater's – ex-Death Eater's? – son. And they were alone. He could do anything to her! Hex her, injure her, and there would be no witnesses! He could even make it look like an accident!

 _Okay, calm down. We're at the kitchens now. Nothing will happen. I have my wand. Besides, I don't think he'd_ really _do that. Maybe. Gosh why do I get scared so easily?_

While she was deep in her thoughts she didn't notice that Nott had tickled the pear and opened the door. And was already gone.

Argh! Didn't she say they'd go together? Maybe he only came with her because he didn't know the way or something.

Whatever the case, she walked in and found him on one of the couches on the side, surrounded by house-elves, all offering food.

She stomped over. Slytherin or not, he shouldn't have just left her there!

.

Theo saw her coming over, fuming. What did he even do that would make her angry?

"You left me there!"

Theo raised an eyebrow. If he knew it would make her that mad, he wouldn't have gone inside, but she was just standing there. He was starting to see that it may be normal for her, to just fall into a daydream or something and forget her surroundings.

But he really didn't have the energy to speak. He'd already spoken enough for one day. So he merely told her to calm down before focusing on his plate, laden with various snacks.

She breathed in slowly before sitting down on the couch across from him. "Yeah, sorry about that."

She got angry easily, he noted. Well, a lot of people got angry easily, she was just one of those who got disproportionately angry at the smallest of things while also being unable to hold it in, no matter what. If he hadn't known she was a Hufflepuff, he would've pegged her for a Gryffindor. She would fit right in with the hotheaded Weasleys.

Most Slytherins were able to keep their calm. Well, purebloods at least. They were all taught since birth to be the proper wizards, and keeping calm and giving no indication of emotional distress to others was one of those things. He wasn't used to seeing someone he barely knew be so candid in showing her emotions in front of him. Didn't she know that doing that would give the other person an advantage over her?

Then again, she was just a mudblood. She didn't understand. She grew up with muggles, who probably didn't have half a brain in teaching their daughter how to properly handle herself and her emotions.

She asked a house-elf for some kind of food he didn't know of, probably some muggle snack as she gave the elf very specific instructions on how to make it, and he noted how friendly she treated the elves, even going so far as to say "please" and "thank you."

He shook his head wryly. _As expected of a Mudblood. They'll never fit into Wizarding society. They stick out like a sore thumb._

"You think I'm stupid, don't you?"

"Huh?" Theo was jolted out of his thoughts by her question, and hadn't expected her to ask something like _that_ , out of all things.

"You do."

This time it wasn't a question. He pursed his lips, thinking about what to say.

"I don't think you're stupid."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Then what?" She challenged.

He inwardly groaned. Why again had he thought to tolerate this girl?

"You're not stupid. Just incredibly naïve and ignorant."

"Excuse me?! _I'm_ ignorant?"

.

Lizzie didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the notion.

"How can I be ignorant? Ignorant to what? If anything, _you're_ ignorant. Even though you haven't said anything, I know. I know how people of your house and your bloodline view people like me. They're the ones who are ignorant, because they can't get past their own prejudices!"

Only now did she realize she had stood up and was pointing an accusatory finger at him.

He was still silent. _Please don't be planning my demise,_ she pleaded inwardly. _Oh gosh, he really is planning my demise, isn't he? What have you done, Lizzie? Why, Lizzie? Why would you say something so stupid and ridiculous and it's true but it's still rude and ahhh what am I going to do –_

Lizzie shook herself out of her panicking thoughts. They had a tendency to run ahead of her. _Okay, calm, Lizzie, calm. Be calm. You can be calm, right? Totally calm, Lizzie. Breathe. In and out. Good job, you're doing well. I am so amazing. I'm like my own therapist. Hmm, maybe I could be a therapist in the future –_

 _LIZZIE focus!_

She wanted to slap herself for her runaway thoughts. _I. Am. An. Idiot._

She realized that Nott still hadn't spoken about her outburst and he'd opened a book (where'd that come from?) and wasn't paying any attention to her. Which terrified her.

 _It's always the quiet ones, isn't it? Oh, please, please, Nott, forgive me! He's probably planning my gruesome death and –_

 _Lizzie, its okay. He's not_ that _bad, right?_

"Erm," She started but was cought off-guard when he turned his gaze to her, without any emotion which freaked her out again. His staring bore into her skin, making her feel as if he could see past her and into her mind. _Can I please die in a hole right now? Universe, I would really appreciate if you could make a black hole appear right about now from under me. Really, I would._

"Could you, ah, say something, at least?" She asked nervously, forcing a smile on her face, trying to hide the fact that she was uncomfortable but knowing it was futile.

.

He regarded her curiously, before ignoring her in favor of his food. He didn't know what to say, honestly. How could he say that it was the muggles' own ignorance that caused them to be hated and viewed as lesser beings? How could he word it in a way that she would understand? So he said what he'd said before:

"You don't understand."

"That again?" She huffed. "Try me."

He contemplated for a few moments, before doing exactly that. He told her everything, from how people with magic were treated in the past, forcing their world to go into hiding. And how less and less people married muggles after the International Statute of Secrecy, fearing they would be punished for breaking the law. And how the muggles' ignorance of all things magical, their ignorance, hatred, and fear, led to an entire society of people to hide themselves who feared going outside because they couldn't risk a muggle getting suspicious. And how those same muggles, or their descendants at least, thought they were somehow better than people with magic. And how all the muggle-borns (and sometimes halfbloods too) who enter wizarding society decide that they know better and that they have some sort of right to do whatever they want and work wherever they want and take wizards' jobs and change the wizarding world to be more like the muggles' world. It was infecting wizarding society and changing many old traditions because for some reason, these muggle-borns think they know more about the wizarding world than the wizards themselves, and they try to change it to fit their vision of the perfect world, and it infuriates many people. They don't have the class of purebloods, and they don't even _try_ to learn of it. They just waltz into their world, not caring about how the society works. They don't adhere to the social status and social norms. Hence, they are ignorant.

He finished his speech, and couldn't even believe how long he had talked. He rarely spoke more than three sentences to someone in one sitting. But once he had opened his mouth, he couldn't stop. There were centuries of hatred against muggles that he laid out for her, and he didn't care if he hurt her feelings or some crap like that.

She'd listened through the whole thing, which surprised him, a little. She'd wanted to interrupt him many times, he could tell, but she managed to keep her mouth shut.

He didn't expect her to understand anything. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if she chose never to talk to him again. It wouldn't shock him in the slightest if she got up and stormed out, just now. (And why did he feel a sinking in his stomach at the idea of her never speaking to him again?)

But of course, this was Fairchild, the same girl who approached him in the library and who had no qualms in talking back to him and challenged him and never showed she was scared or intimidated by him. He should really not underestimate her ability to surprise him.

"So basically, I'm ignorant, and all other muggle-borns, and muggles too, are ignorant, and your reason for this is ethnocentrism?"

"Ethno-what?" Theo asked, taken aback by her calm and matter-of-fact response.

"Ethnocentrism. It's the idea of looking at another society through the lens of your own, so that often a lot of the other society's traditions and norms might seem strange and weird to you because it's considered weird in your society, even though a lot of the things you do would seem weird to them," Fairchild explained. "Though I suppose you wouldn't know the term, because of your ignorance of the muggle world and how you don't even _try_ to learn about it before calling it inferior," She added pointedly.

He scoffed. "I don't need to know about the muggle world, because I'm not trying to be a part of it. But you, you're a part of this world, whether the rest of us want you here or not. And instead of trying to integrate yourself properly, you just flagrantly reject all of our traditions and strut about as if you own the place."

.

Lizzie knew he wasn't targeting her specifically, and was saying "you" in general, but she couldn't help but be offended. Especially since the "you" was targeting muggle-borns. Like her.

"Well it's not like you ever give us the chance to integrate ourselves properly! What with the whole "Mudbloods are disgusting and beneath us" thing," She faltered a little at the use of the slur, but she wanted to make her point. Her voice slowly rose until she was sure she was shouting. "How do you expect us to respect your culture when your culture blatantly disrespects us?! We're people too, whether or not you believe that. We're fully human, and we're thrown into this world at the age of eleven, and we have to prove to the wizarding world that we are _just as good as purebloods_! I mean, would you want to integrate yourself into a culture that forces you down and tells you that you are less than the rest and that you aren't worth the dirt beneath people's feet? No, you would try to prove yourself and show them that they are wrong and that this whole thing about keeping up with centuries-old traditions and staying tied to a stupid, supremacist culture is wrong. Very, very wrong!"

He opened his mouth to cut her off but she wasn't done. Not yet. The house-elves had heard her shouting and they had gone to hide behind the tables and many were staring at her, not knowing what to do. She paid them no mind. All of her attention was focused on the…the _bigot_ in front of her. In this moment, she wasn't afraid of him anymore. She wasn't terrified of what he'd do to her after she'd said what she wanted to say. She knew she would regret this, but it just felt so good to let out all of her rage at the wizarding world, even if the person in front of her wasn't entirely deserving of her rage. Well, he was definitely deserving of some, at least. And she could worry about being afraid of him _after_ she got to yell at him.

"That doesn't make me ignorant! I may not know everything about old Pureblood traditions, but maybe I would actually respect them more if the basis of so many of these traditions aren't 'We're better than those disease-riddled savage muggles! Let's revel in our awesome superiority!' That's why you want to kill us all, isn't it?" Lizzie realized, her voice taking on a calmer tone. "You say it's because we're disgusting, because we're filth, but really, you're afraid of us taking over the wizarding world. You're afraid that somehow the muggles will find out about magic and start a witch-hunt, like in the past. You're afraid of the world as you know it collapsing and wizards and witches having to find their own place in a new, different wizarding world with muggleborns and muggles everywhere and you no longer having all the respect and the wealth that the Pureblood traditions have given you that you've had to rely on for centuries. You hate us, because in gaining our equal rights, we're ripping away the privilege that you've always had."

Nott glared. "We're not afraid of you," he sneered, but Lizzie could see that he faltered slightly, that some of what she said had raised doubts in his mind.

"Aren't you? I mean, maybe not you specifically and maybe you don't believe in this personally, but that's the general Pureblood belief, isn't it? I mean, that's probably how all of these prejudices were manifested, because those who were magical in the past feared the muggles who were hunting them down. And they passed it onto their children, who passed it onto their children, where the fear eventually turned into hate. But since the muggles had eventually forgotten about magic and it had merely turned into the stuff of myths and legends and stories to them, they were no longer a threat. And the wizarding world needed a reason to hate muggles. So eventually, with all the fear and hate combined, rose stories of how "uncivilized" muggles are. Of how diseased they are. Of how muggle-borns would never belong, because they always try to ruin wizarding society. And that's why the generations of today look down on us so much, because their ancestors greatly feared us in the past, even though now the fear is mostly gone."

"And do you have proof for all of these assumptions?"

.

"I have logic," She replied, raising her chin defiantly. She raised her mug of hot chocolate and sipped from it, her eyes not leaving his face. She was clearly done with her say and was waiting for him to respond.

But he had nothing to say to her. Clearly she was deluded. And clearly he was an idiot for ever thinking he could tolerate her presence. _Mudbloods will always be mudbloods, Theo. Curse you for ever thinking that one could be different than the rest. That one of them could be amusing, and fun to converse with. She isn't different. Admittedly she is bolder, and definitely someone with well thought-out words, but just the same._

Suddenly he didn't want to be there anymore. Suddenly he was itching to leave the kitchens as quickly as possible, to be as far away from the Mudblood as he could. But he couldn't leave. Not just like that, anyway. He couldn't show her that she had some sort of hold on him, that she held some power over him. Hah! That was laughable. And he didn't want to give the impression that he was afraid of her, because he definitely wasn't.

 _She's just a mudblood, Theo, who cares about her? Just read your book and eat your food in peace until she leaves. You don't have to talk to her. Just ignore her._

So he raised his book and began reading, trying to ignore the fact that she kept glancing at him every few seconds, as if afraid of what he would do.

 _Ha. She claims that Purebloods are afraid of filthy muggles and mudbloods, but obviously_ she's _the one who's scared. What a crazy girl._

 _._

Lizzie squirmed in her seat. Obviously, this was not how she imagined her night to be. She imagined coming down to the kitchens and drinking hot chocolate and relaxing and mulling in her own thoughts. But no, she just had to bump into Nott on the way down and her stupid brain just _had_ to make the choice to come here with him and start an argument with him. Couldn't she have just stayed silent? She didn't _have_ to ask him if he thought she was stupid, but she just blurted it out without thinking. Sometimes she really hated herself. Sometimes she could word things in a really well thought-out way but mostly she would blurt the most random things.

At least she proved to him she wasn't stupid. And not in the slightest ignorant. Or naïve.

She looked over and noticed he was still reading. She didn't know what came over her, but she'd thought of an idea.

"Hey, er, Nott?"

"What?"

.

Argh, he'd talked without thinking. What happened to ignoring the girl? What was he thinking? He hoped she wouldn't yell at him again. She was probably just apologizing, if anything.

"I um…I noticed you like to read?"

Well, guess not. No apology then.

"Yes, so what?" He snapped. He didn't care to hide his emotions anymore. She'd insulted him and his world. He was mad, and angry, and frustrated, and he'd resolved to ignore her but that didn't last, so he had a right to snap at her.

"Well I just thought…have you read _every_ book in the library?"

"Of course." Obviously he hadn't, because it was a _library_ and a big one at that, but obviously this girl was crazy so he humored her.

"Really? Well, even if you haven't, you've probably read at least a few books from every section, right?"

"Obviously." There was no point in trying to ask her what the point of all this was. Although he was curious about what she was going on about, maybe if he kept his answers short and brief, she would shut up and leave.

"Well, I'm willing to bet that there's one section you haven't read from," she challenged, a smirk on her face.

 _Willing to bet, is she? Well maybe then I can prove how crazy she is. She's probably talking about the restricted section. Naïve little Hufflepuff._

"And no, I'm not talking about the restricted section, because you've probably read all the books in there already," she remarked, making him frown and look at his book, which was, indeed, nicked from the restricted section. He'd just charmed the outside to look like a book about potions.

Now he was curious. Throughout the years he'd been at Hogwarts, he'd read many books, and, yes, he thought, no, _knew_ he'd read many from each section.

"Fine, then. I have read books from each section."

"Okay, well, tomorrow, I'm going to go into the library and I'll try to find a section you haven't read anything from yet."

"And if you don't?"

"Well, what do you want?"

"Nothing from you."

"Well, I'll let you decide later then!" She chirped. How could she get so happy after being so angry just earlier? And was she so confident that she didn't worry about what he would ask of her, since she didn't consider losing a possibility? Or was she so innocent that she trusted that he wouldn't come up with something too bad?

"But don't forget about if I _do_ find a section!"

"And then what?"

"Hmm…then you'll have to read a book of my choice, from that section."

Theo frowned. That was it? First of all, what was her motivation in asking him randomly, and second of all, why was his consequence…not really a consequence at all? He wouldn't mind reading another book. More knowledge, wasn't it?

And she didn't seem _that_ stupid…maybe she just didn't really care about what she got out of it, or maybe it was just a Hufflepuff thing to be nice, even when betting, or maybe she really only cared about proving him wrong and wanted to gloat afterwards or something.

Or maybe…she was planning something.

If she was a Slytherin he would immediately be suspicious of her planning something, but this was just a Hufflepuff.

Then again, she was not merely an innocent and nice Hufflepuff, was she?

And the way she was so confident in her suggestion made him think that she knew something he didn't, or at least thought she knew something he didn't.

Well, he was right and she was wrong and even though this was about something completely trivial, he couldn't have her think he was refusing because he thought he might be wrong. So he nodded at her, then stood up and stretched, closing his book.

"When are you going to do this?"

"Well, since I usually go to the library after dinner anyways to do homework, I'll just do it then!"

He let out a sound in affirmation, then, holding his book, he figured he should leave.

He had reached the door when he heard her say "Good night!" cheerily. What had gotten into her, really! He told himself to forget about it, but then figured it couldn't hurt to wish her goodnight as well before leaving.

.

Lizzie smiled to herself, finally in the comfort of silence without a strange, bigoted Slytherin hanging around. She knew she would win this bet or whatever, and it was all part of her crazy plan. Well, not _plan_ , exactly, but she had a particular book in mind she wanted him to read. And she considered several different ways to get him to read it, and this seemed the best way. She couldn't just suggest the title under the guise of just wanting to give him more book choices out of her goodwill or something silly like that, and there was no guarantee he would actually read anything she suggested anyway.

But this was the best way. Because Slytherins weren't sore losers. So he would read it, even if he somehow figured out what she was trying to do. It was just a _book_ , after all. There was no guarantee that reading a book would change his mind. But it might.

Because honestly, he wasn't a _bad_ person. Not necessarily. He held prejudiced beliefs, yes, but they could always change.

Lizzie's dad always told her to look for the best in people, and to always look to the opportunity for change. Someone might believe in an absolutely terrible thing, but if they honestly believed they were right, that didn't automatically make them a terrible person (well, unless they harmed someone or something like that). It just made them a person who was either ignorant or someone who chose to ignore the truth.

And she had a feeling that Nott was somehow a person who was both.

After all, he had been nice to her. Well, sort of. But he helped her with her essay and he apologized for being rude and really, he'd shown that he could be decent to muggle-borns. He held horrible beliefs, but he didn't act on them. And so maybe…maybe he didn't fully believe in them. He wasn't like Malfoy, who always looked for the next opportunity to bully those he considered to be beneath him.

But Nott didn't do that. He was perfectly civil to her the other day, and today too. Well, until their, uh, argument. Even though the way he talked to her gave her the impression that he thought of her as being like a small child, what with the whole "you wouldn't understand" thing, but he was never outright mean, and she'd never heard him shout slurs at others like the others in his house (cough *Malfoy* cough).

For the longest time, since her introduction to the wizarding world, she assumed that the pureblood supremacists all adhered to their beliefs the same way. The same way as Malfoy, namely. She assumed that all of them wanted her dead, that all of them considered her the dirt beneath their shoes.

But there were different layers to bigotry, she supposed. Like Nott. He seemed to consider her lesser in some ways at least, but he didn't seem to want her dead. He didn't give the impression that she was dirt, or that he was itching for the time when muggle-borns "learned their place" (Malfoy's words, not hers).

She didn't think he'd care if all the muggles and muggle-borns were wiped off the planet, but he didn't seem to care if they all lived and if muggle-borns kept coming to Hogwarts either. He wouldn't care either way, because their lives didn't matter to him, but he wouldn't actively try to get rid of them. He'd just stay out of there way and hope they did the same.

But maybe she could change his mind. Maybe she could make him care about the former, about whether or not people like her lived and had the rights they deserved or if they were all killed or subjugated under pureblood rule.

She didn't know why she cared so much. His beliefs were his beliefs, and as long as he didn't harm someone with them, it shouldn't matter to her if he cared.

But there was a reason. A very serious one. And she realized that she'd known for a long time, a longer time than she was willing to admit. Voldemort (she shuddered even thinking the name) was back. She didn't want to believe it, but it must be true. She didn't know Harry Potter that well, but Ernie Macmillan swore that Potter never lied. And she trusted Ernie. And she trusted Dumbledore too.

So that meant that Nott's father was definitely a Death Eater. And had definitely returned to Voldemort's service.

And it would be better if Nott didn't want to kill her, right?

She also supposed she just wanted to know. Wanted to know more about this complicated and interesting person, and if it was possible to let go of beliefs one has held their whole life.

* * *

Lizzie jerked awake and it took her a few moments to realize she wasn't in her dorm. She was in the kitchen and she blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness. The elves must have gone to sleep, she realized.

She glanced at her watch and almost screamed at the time. It was 3 am! She left the Hufflepuff common room at around 10:30 or so, and she'd probably been with Nott for about an hour and so if she went back then it wouldn't be so much of a problem. But no, she dozed off instead and Hannah probably noticed her empty bed when she returned from patrols. She should have closed the curtains around her bed when she left! Then it would look like she was sleeping!

 _Stupid, stupid, self. Why am I so stupid?_

As quietly as she could, Lizzie rushed out of the kitchens and snuck back to the common room, where she hoped Hannah hadn't stayed up or something waiting for her, as Hannah was the kind of person to do that.

Lizzie rushed up the stairs and, as quietly as she could, tiptoed to her bed and was about to sink in, when she heard an accusatory voice behind her.

"Hello, Lizzie."

Lizzie bit her lip to keep from screaming and swiveled around, plastering a smile on her face. "Hannah! Why are you awake at this hour?"

"Me? What about you?"

"I was just…" Lizzie mentally face-palmed for her stupidity. She couldn't lie well. Not to Hannah, at least. And she always felt so guilty afterward because Hannah was such a good person, that she would usually end up telling the truth to her anyway.

Hannah sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Save the lies, Lizzie, where did you go?"

"I went to the kitchens," Lizzie said, and as Hannah opened her mouth, Lizzie cut her off. "And the reason I was gone so long was that I fell asleep and woke up just a little bit ago."

Hannah sighed again. "Of course you did. I don't even know why I bother worrying about you all the time. And you know I have the right to give you detention for that. Also, did you look at my prefects' patrol schedule?"

Lizzie flushed. "Er…possibly?" She admitted sheepishly.

Hannah just shook her head. "Why do I bother?" She asked again, more to herself this time, before laying on her bed and promptly falling asleep.

* * *

 **Poor Hannah. Dealing with Lizzie is certainly a pain.**

 **Anyway, please follow, favorite, and review! I love reviews!**

 **~Saturn10710~**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own, yadda yadda, all that stuff.**

* * *

Chapter 3-

Lizzie may have escaped Hannah's wrath last night, but that didn't mean she got to escape it in the morning when they were fully awake.

She was jolted awake by a feeling of sharp pain and something freezing fall all over her face.

"HANNAH!" She jumped out of bed and realized Hannah had dumped a bucket of ice over her head.

She grabbed for her wand but it wasn't on her bedside table as it usually was. "Damn you Hannah! Give me back my wand!"

Hannah just chuckled from where she was standing by the vanity, brushing her hair. "I have no idea what you are talking about, dear good friend Lizzie," She said in that oh-so-very-innocent voice of hers.

Lizzie scowled, before glancing at her watch and sending another glare towards Hannah. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

Hannah smiled sweetly, but Lizzie knew not to take that as a good sign. Ever. "Oh sweetie, I just thought you would need your beauty sleep after last night. After all, a couple hours rest in the kitchens was surely quite uncomfortable," she said in a voice that reminded Lizzie of a certain pink-clad toad-like woman.

With that, she grinned as she put away her hairbrush, glanced in the mirror one last time, and pranced out of the room.

"Ugh…" Lizzie was feeling a headache coming on, and the ice wasn't helping. Neither was the pain. And neither was her few restless hours of sleep.

And to add onto that, she only had thirty minutes to get ready and eat breakfast before class started.

 _Curse you Hannah…_

She must have turned off Lizzie's alarm, and must've told their other roommates not to wake her up. But still…she didn't think they'd all be so mean. Especially not Susan.

Just at that moment Susan Bones walked out of the washroom, having just fixed her makeup. She pretended to look shocked that Lizzie was still in her nightclothes and still groggy and half asleep.

"Oh! Lizzie, good morning!" Susan smiled kindly, "You'd better hurry up or you'll be late!"

With that, Susan left, and Lizzie could hear her trying desperately not to laugh but failing all the way down the stairs.

 _So much for her kind reputation…_

Her other three roommates had probably left before she woke up, and she cursed them too. Sometimes she hated her friends. Sometimes she really did.

Lizzie yawned as she kicked off her sheets and stretched, wishing desperately that she hadn't chosen a weekday to sneak out of bed. Then again, she had met Nott and had an…interesting…conversation. But was it worth the headache she would probably have for the whole day?

She then remembered her bet and grinned. Then remembered the time and cursed.

 _I'll just have to skip a shower…it's gross but like, food is more important, right? I mean I could probably take a quick shower and make breakfast but my hair takes ages to dry…no. I'm not going to be gross. Who cares about wet hair? Either way, I guess I'll have to go bare-faced today. I wish I knew a spell for doing perfect makeup…_

Lizzie snorted at her own thought process and hurriedly rushed getting ready for the day, before barely making it to the Great Hall ten minutes before class was supposed to start.

 _Great, that leaves five minutes to eat, and five to get to class. Great. Why does the common room have to be so far from the Great Hall? Dammit Hannah…it took me four whole minutes to find my stupid wand! Stupid Hannah._

"Oh, you made it!" Hannah grinned as Lizzie slid into the seat across from her. "I'm so glad you won't be late!"

"No thanks to you," Lizzie grumbled, as she picked up a fork and started shoveling eggs into her mouth.

"Still haven't learned the drying spell yet?" Susan asked, gesturing sympathetically at Lizzie's hair, which she had attempted to dry with a towel but was still clearly wet.

Lizzie sniffed. "So what if I don't know a few spells that all of you have mastered yet? Not everyone is great at everything, you know," she said, before hurriedly gulping down her water.

Susan laughed and held up her hands. "Okay, okay, don't get so defensive. Here, I'll dry it for you," she added, pulling out her wand and pointing at Lizzie's hair from her spot next to Hannah.

Lizzie covered her face. "No way. You'll just burn my hair!"

Susan frowned in confusion. "Why would I burn your hair?"

"I don't know," Lizzie shrugged, "Punishment? So that I would learn my lesson?"

"Oh, I think this morning was lesson enough," Susan said, smiling.

"Susan's too nice," Ernie cut in from Lizzie's right. "We all know if someone were to burn your hair, it would be Hannah."

Hannah smirked. "I would never."

Lizzie snorted and let Susan dry her hair. People in the other houses thought Hannah was just the sweetest thing. She was definitely not. Oh, she could be sweet if she wanted to be. That just wasn't very often. At least not when she was with her friends.

.

Theodore Nott watched this interaction from the other side of the hall. He didn't know why. It wasn't as if he could hear anything. He just wanted to…keep an eye on this girl. This girl who was _wrong_ on so many levels but for some reason kept inching her way into his brain.

He noticed her blond hair was still wet. Hah! Finally he'd found something, some flaw. She didn't know even the simplest drying spell, did she? Well, that just proved…

Just proved what?

 _That Mudbloods are simpler, less intelligent people, of course._

But did it really? Or was he just trying too hard to find something lacking in her, to prove whatever he was trying to prove?

He sighed. Stupid Mudblood. Messing with his head when she wasn't even trying to. Why was he even bothering himself with thinking of her anyways?

 _Just forget it, Theo._

It must be that all of the stuff she'd said last night…well he couldn't deny that he had been thinking of her words. They'd gotten through…somehow.

 _"But really, you're afraid of us taking over the wizarding world."_

 _I am NOT afraid._ He wasn't. Really. Theodore Nott, afraid of muggles? Laughable.

Though she did have a point, didn't she?

 _"Would you want to integrate yourself into a culture that forces you down and tells you that you are less than the rest and that you aren't worth the dirt beneath people's feet?"_

 _Well, if she didn't want to integrate, maybe she should just leave us entirely,_ he thought bitterly, before standing up and roughly shoving the book he was currently reading into his bag and making his way towards the door, suddenly wanting to be as far as possible from the girl.

"Alright, Nott?"

Theo turned around to see the face of the one and only Draco Malfoy watching him. He was surprised. He didn't think Malfoy was observant enough to tell that something was bothering him, and he definitely didn't think that Malfoy cared enough to ask if he was alright.

"Yes," he answered simply before turning around again and continuing on his path to class, with Malfoy following. As usual, his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle followed with their arms piled with food.

"I was just wondering, because you've been acting weird since morning," Malfoy explained, his voice neutral, refusing to give away any of his thoughts.

Theo raised an eyebrow in question. He didn't think he had. Had the Fairchild girl really distracted him that much, so much so that _Malfoy_ of all people noticed?

"Where did you go last night?" He asked, his tone making it seem as if they were having a conversation about the weather.

Ah. So that's what this was. He'd probably woken up in the middle of the night and noticed he was gone. Theo knew that Malfoy wasn't exactly the deepest sleeper.

"Does it matter?" Granted, Theo could have just told him where he was, and Malfoy would just drop it, but really, he didn't want to make it seem like he was okay with other people questioning him in what he did. He didn't want to set a precedent for Malfoy.

"Well, no." Malfoy's eyes narrowed towards Theo as he added, "Unless you were doing something beneath us."

From his words, Theo guessed he meant that he thought Theo was betraying his pureblood values. Why was Malfoy suddenly suspecting Theo of doing something untrustworthy? He would never. It wasn't unusual for Slytherins to sneak out of the dorms during the night, and Malfoy had even come with him once! So why was this any different?

"What puts an idea like that in your head?" Theo asked, curling his lip.

"Well," Malfoy raised his chin, "I normally wouldn't question it, but you were acting quite _distracted_ this morning."

Well, Theo supposed he wasn't acting completely himself this morning after all. He had a sudden burst of hatred even more for the Mudblood. It was her fault that he had to deal with Malfoy's interrogation now.

"Everyone needs a proper night's sleep, don't they?" Theo knew he was deflecting, but he couldn't say that a stupid Mudblood was the reason.

"Well, yes," Malfoy conceded, "but you've stayed up all night before and you were able to function properly."

Theo rolled his eyes. Now he was just making things up in order to seem more observant than he really was. Well, maybe he wasn't making things up, exactly, but he was certainly exaggerating them. And there must be some other reason for his sudden questioning, because simply acting _distracted_ was not enough for suspecting that Theo had done something he wouldn't normally do. There had to be another reason for it.

 _Although I had done something I wouldn't normally do, didn't I? I talked with a Mudblood and had the longest conversation I'd ever had with anyone._

Well, it wasn't like he had done anything blatantly _wrong_ , per say, but he wouldn't just tell Malfoy the truth because he knew Malfoy would inflate everything until it seemed like Theo had become a blood-traitor. Which was ridiculous, really. Simply conversing (or arguing, more like) was not enough to convict him of being something so disgusting, so _wrong._

"Well, there's also the fact that you were eyeing the Hufflepuff table all during breakfast."

 _There it is._

"Become my stalker now, have you Malfoy? Watching my every move, one has to wonder whether you've just become over-paranoid." Theo could barely admit to himself that he _had_ been glancing across the hall to the table every few minutes, wondering when Fairchild would show up, or if she would ever show up, just so he could point out her every flaw in his head.

"You're not denying it?" Malfoy asked, smirking, probably thinking he had trapped Theo into confessing something scandalous. Which was ridiculous, really.

"I'm not going to bother denying outlandish accusations that everyone knows are outlandish," Theo replied, keeping his tone casual.

Malfoy gave Theo a long look. "…Right. Okay. Well, I'm going." He pushed past Theo, his dumb "friends" following him like sheep.

 _What in the name of Merlin actually just happened?_

* * *

 _What is actually wrong with me? Really?_ Lizzie thought as she stomped out of class, fuming. They'd just had Defence Against the Dark Arts with the Ravenclaws, and it wasn't exactly…peaceful.

Although, Lizzie figured that the class wasn't as much a class on defence, but more like an hour of just sitting and reading a stupid book that would never even help them anyway.

And she didn't have anything against books. She loved books.

"Don't worry Lizzie, we're all frustrated with that woman," Susan said, patting her on the back.

Hannah, however, sniffed. "That may be true, but that doesn't mean you have to go running your mouth whenever you want! You should've just stayed quiet!"

Hannah was right. Now she had a detention with the horrible toad-like teacher. _If only I had a freaking brain, maybe I wouldn't have to deal with the pink toad._

Lizzie sighed, thinking back to the events of the lesson as they headed to lunch, wishing she had a filter on her mouth. And a filter on her brain, while they were at it.

* * *

They were supposed to read chapter two of _Defensive Magical Theory_ by Wilbert something-or-the-other, and after remembering the sleep-inducing first chapter in their first lesson the previous week, she couldn't help herself.

She opened up her book and after reading the first few pages of the next chapter and realizing how it was much the same as the previous one, she raised her hand before she knew what she was doing. Hannah shot her a look, one that meant _what the hell are you doing don't say anything weird put your hand down_ but Lizzie ignored it.

"Yes, Miss…?"

"Fairchild."

"Miss Fairchild, do you have a question?" Lizzie heard the way Umbridge tasted the name, as if it was disgusting. She saw the way Umbridge hesitated for a moment, searching through her head to figure out if she'd heard the name before in the wizarding world. And after realizing it wasn't a wizard name, she was suddenly disgusted, although she tried to hide it.

Lizzie knew that despite the Ministry of Magic's official stance on muggle-borns – that they deserved the same rights as any other witch or wizard – they were far from being completely equal in many of its workers' eyes. Although people like Umbridge would never say anything out loud, and maybe they didn't even realize it themselves.

Oftentimes, Lizzie had realized over time, many were prejudiced against muggles and muggle-borns in some way without thinking they were, and were honestly offended if suggested that they were.

Although, Umbridge was probably not one of those people. Lizzie could tell – the curl of her lips at her name was not unintentional. Umbridge was definitely aware of how she saw muggle-borns, although they weren't prejudices to her, were they?

"Of course, or else I wouldn't be raising my hand, would I?" Lizzie said without thinking.

Umbridge pursed her lips. "What did I say on the first day? 5 points from Hufflepuff for ignoring my rules and for your cheek."

Everyone in her house groaned and shot her dirty looks, and Lizzie could feel a glare coming from Hannah's direction.

Lizzie had heard about the disastrous first lesson with the Gryffindors. How Hermione Granger started protesting the material, with other students joining in, culminating in Harry Potter shouting about You-Know-Who killing her fellow housemate, Cedric Diggory, and landing himself in detention.

She didn't want to cause the same thing, and she didn't, really. She originally had a question about whether the rest of the year will go the same way, with no practical lessons, and she was honestly going to say it politely, as if she was just curious, and she was, really. She wasn't like Hermione Granger, who asked a question with the intention of rejecting the material.

But hearing the disgust that was embedded in the way Umbridge said her name made the words slip out without any thought.

Lizzie cleared her throat, forcing her mouth to twist into an apologetic smile, though she wanted to sneer instead, "Sorry Professor Umbridge. Anyways, can I ask my question now?"

Umbridge smiled, but it wasn't fooling anyone. "Does it relate to what you are reading?"

"Well, yes, it was about-" she was about to continue but Umbridge cut her off.

"Yes, _what?_ "

Lizzie inwardly groaned. Ugh, she should've just not said anything. Curse her and her stupid mouth!

Well, she'd already started this, so she may as well continue it. "Yes, Professor Umbridge," Lizzie said, this time with no false politeness.

Umbridge smiled again with such fake sweetness that Lizzie wanted to throw up. "Then ask away."

"Well, I was just wondering, are we ever going to have a practical part to this class, or…?"

Umbridge tilted her head, "Do we need a practical part of this class?"

"I wasn't implying we did, but I mean, isn't the point of this class supposed to teach us how to defend ourselves, and also isn't there a practical on the O.W.L.s?" Lizzie asked, puzzled, "I was just curious on how we're supposed to learn those things by reading about them."

Some of the other students raised their heads from their books, starting to look interested. This was turning out to be much different than their first lesson, where no one took to questioning the teacher.

"Reading on magical theory is enough to learn how to apply it for the O. ," Umbridge answered, completely ignoring the first part of Lizzie's question, "Where you will be able to cast defensive spells in a safe, controlled environment."

Lizzie snorted, "Then I guess we're all going to fail. I don't know about you, but I think I speak for a lot of the others when I say that it's going to be incredibly difficult performing a spell for the first time in front of the tester while being stressed out. How are you supposed to learn something without practicing it first?"

"If you pay attention in class and read up on the theory, then there should be no reason why you need to practice beforehand."

"Seriously?" Lizzie raised her eyebrows. "That's faulty logic. Maybe some people can cast a defensive spell perfectly on their first try, but for most people, no matter how much they study, they're still going to need to practice!"

Umbridge shot her a scathing look, "As I have said before, if you have studied the theory thoroughly, there should be nothing preventing you from doing well."

"Well, then can I at least ask _why_ there's no practical part of this class? Why are you so insistent on keeping us from knowing how to defend ourselves?"

"As I have said, if you haven't been slacking in your studies, you don't need a practical to know how to defend yourselves. Although of course," Umbridge let out a soft chuckle, "Why you think you need to know how to defend yourselves, I have no idea. There is nothing causing danger to yourselves, is there?"

Lizzie scoffed. "Contrary to what you seem to think, the world isn't completely safe."

"Why would you think that? Is there something you-" Umbridge was cut off by Terry Boot from Ravenclaw, who had raised his hand. Lizzie thought she was just eager for an excuse to change the subject. "Yes, Mr.…?"

"Boot, Professor."

"Well, Mr. Boot, I will excuse your interruption, but only this time. Do you have something to ask, that pertains to this class and will not disrupt this lesson?" She added, glaring at Lizzie.

"I do, Professor Umbridge," he said. "What's the reason for your objection to using magic in classrooms? I mean, this is a 'safe, controlled environment,' isn't it? Or are you just afraid that you won't be able to control us?"

Lizzie grinned and smiled at him, grateful. She never expected a Ravenclaw to back her up, but she definitely appreciated it. Especially since her own friends – and at this thought, she shot them a dirty look – had, until this point, been gesturing for her to shut up.

 _So much for being the loyal house._

Except, well, now her housemates seemed to have changed their minds. At least Ernie, Susan, and Justin Finch-Fletchley had, for their hands were now up in the air as well. Some of the other Ravenclaws had also raised their hands, and, finally, after taking a look around the classroom, Hannah grudgingly lifted her hand too, sending another glare towards Lizzie that said _You owe me_. She absolutely hated getting on a teacher's bad side.

Umbridge's face was now turning the same color as her pink robes, and were turning darker. "You fifth years all seem to have the same objections, don't you? None of the other years have asked the same outlandish questions you have."

"I suppose it just means we all have brains, doesn't it?" Piped up another Ravenclaw from the back of the classroom. His name was Corner or something, Lizzie couldn't remember.

" _You may only speak if your hand is raised!"_

He tossed it up in the air.

"And your name is?"

"Michael Corner."

"Well, Mr. Corner, quite the contrary. It is not necessary to use defensive spells in order to master them, as long as you have learned the theory." Umbridge grinned, turning her head slowly as she made eye contact with every student in the classroom, "Are all of you insinuating that you do not have the capabilities to thoroughly learn these spells? One would think that a student such as you, Mr. Corner, values reading and understands its importance in learning."

Corner let out a sound of protest but Umbridge continued on. "This is just an excuse to fool around and not take your studies seriously. Let me make this clear: Any student who studies thoroughly should be able to pass their O.W.L.s without any need of practical lessons, and if you do not do well, it will not reflect terribly on me, but on _you_ , the students who refuse to learn and expect special treatment because they think they know better than the Ministry on what the best way to learn is."

Evidently, Umbridge seemed to think insulting Ravenclaws and their abilities to study – indirectly, but still – was a good idea. Evidently, she didn't know Ravenclaws very well. That whole half of the room threw their hands up in the air, wanting desperately to dispute her implications, but Ernie beat them to it.

"We're just concerned about our learning! It has nothing to do with the Ministry or whatever!" Ernie grumbled. "And we're obviously not going to learn anything worthwhile from you!"

" _Raise your hand if you wish to speak!"_

"My hand is up, if you bothered to look!"

" _Enough!_ " Umbridge shouted, effectively quieting the students. "Now, does anyone else have anything to add?" She scanned the classroom, ignoring the fact that more than half of the students had their hands raised in the air and were waving them frantically. "No? Return to your books, we have wasted much valuable time, so I'm afraid you will have to finish reading the chapter after class today. Although you can blame your fellow classmate for that"-she glanced very pointedly at Lizzie-"who's intentions no doubt revolve around distracting her classmates from learning."

"What?" Lizzie stood up. "I don't want to _stop_ people from learning! The opposite in fact! I want this whole class to be able to learn defensive spells effectively so that we can pass our O.W.L.s, and, more importantly, defend ourselves if we're in danger!"

" _Hand,_ Miss Fairchild!"

She shot her hand in the air, but Umbridge curled her lip and refused to call on her instead. "I will not waste more class time in order to listen to your ridiculous notions. There is nothing, and, I repeat, _nothing_ out there that you will have to defend yourselves from! I suppose you have been told the same lies as your peers? Well, let me quell these rumours. There is _no_ danger out there, and there is certainly _no_ dark wizard who has risen once again. And, if there is ever a case in which you do need to defend yourselves, though I cannot imagine a situation in which you would need to, learning defensive theory accurately will allow you to de-escalate the situation non-violently and in the best way. And, if it comes to using spells, I expect you will have learned them so well that you will be able to perform them well enough under stress if needed. If anyone is worried, come to me, my office is open at all times, and I will help you quell your fears. There is absolutely nothing to worry about, as long as you pay attention in class. Now, _return to your reading at once!_ "

"So I guess if we're in danger and killed, it's our fault because apparently we're all slackers? When _you're_ the one who's never going to give us the chance to learn properly? And I'm not the one who brought up You-Know-Who," Lizzie argued, her voice rising. "Who says I was even talking about him? Even if he hasn't risen, there are plenty of other evil people in the world, who won't hesitate to take advantage of a fifth year who can't cast a simple defensive spell because the Ministry is insistent on keeping students from using magic!"

"You will sit down, _now!_ " Umbridge screeched. Lizzie was so taken aback that she slid back into her seat. "You will erase these _fantasies_ from your head, you will apologize to your classmates for disrupting this class and deceiving them, and you will _never_ speak of these _illusions_ again!"

Lizzie swallowed thickly. She'd gone this far, it wouldn't do to give in now.

"You won't do it?" Umbridge's voice was snide, all sweetness, no matter how fake, gone. She'd run out of patience, although Lizzie suspected she didn't have any to begin with, "You won't even lower yourself from your pedestal to apologize for doing something wrong?"

"I did nothing wrong," Lizzie said, defiant, high on adrenaline.

"Very well, then," Umbridge reached into her handbag that was placed on her desk, and pulled out a roll of parchment, colored pink – _of course_ , Lizzie thought, rolling her eyes. She was suddenly scared. She didn't expect her genuine question to turn into a row in front of the whole class, but somehow, it did.

"Come here, Miss Fairchild, dear," The way Umbridge said the last word – coated in layers of sweetness – was nauseating, but she slowly stood up from her seat and made her way to the professor's desk, where said woman was hunched over her desk and writing something.

"After class, take this to your head of house," Umbridge said, sliding the revolting roll of parchment into Lizzie's hands. "We have lunch after this, do we not? Surely you will have time to give this to her then." She then smiled sweetly, again.

Lizzie stared at the rolled up parchment with its sickening color of pink for a few seconds before she conceded, and slid back into her seat, dropping the scroll on the table in front of her, defeated. She felt the stares of her classmates and her face burned with shame and embarrassment. Her adrenaline rush had ended. If felt good arguing in the moment, but now that it had ended…well…Lizzie wished she could bury her head in her arms and curl into a ball, but her pride kept her from doing so. She may have been defeated, but she was not going to show that she would yield to Umbridge. She regretted opening her mouth, but she didn't want to show that. _I might as well embrace what I've done._

Then she remembered the scroll. Obviously, Umbridge was going to watch her from the staff table during lunch to make sure she delivered her parchment to Professor Sprout, so she couldn't simply pretend to give it to her. And Umbridge would be able to track her movements all the way until she left the Great Hall, where she would have been expected to already have delivered it by then. Obviously, Lizzie would not be able to open it and read it beforehand or forgo giving it to her head of house entirely. And she guessed Umbridge would not like it if she waited until after lunch.

She dreaded the disappointed look Professor Sprout would give her when she read whatever Umbridge had written. She numbly returned to chapter two, but she could not stop her guilty, regretful thoughts that swam in her head and prevented her from getting absorbed in the words. She did not look forward to walking up to the staff table in front of everyone.

When class finally ended, Lizzie dropped her book into her bag, followed by the rolled up pink scroll, which she had left on her desk in the same position because she could barely force herself to touch it. As it fell, Lizzie caught a few words on the very edges: … _disrespectful…detention...lesson…_

Lizzie started chewing her lip nervously. Professor Sprout would definitely be disappointed now. She'd always tried to be respectful to her teachers, even ones as bad as Snape, so her behavior today shocked even her. And she'd never gotten a detention before. And yet, on only the second Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year! She was not looking forward to the rest of the year, judging by how the first two classes went.

For the first lesson, most of the students had reckoned that maybe the reading would not become an everyday thing, and that maybe they would have some practicals once in a while. After all, it was their O.W.L. year, and the professor had been sent by the Ministry, surely they would not have sent someone who determined that their real teacher would be the author of this very boring, incompetent book?

But by the end of the second lesson, it was clear; the Ministry, for some reason, did not want students practicing magic in DADA classes. But why?

 _He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named,_ was the only reason Lizzie could think of. The way that Umbridge vehemently denied his return, when Lizzie hadn't even mentioned him, would raise anyone's suspicions. Especially after hearing how angry she'd gotten when Potter declared he was back. Sure, Potter could be lying, but it felt like an overreaction. People, even very influential people, had conspiracy theories all the time! And they were never discredited as much as Potter and Dumbledore were in the past two months.

The events of the lesson were replaying themselves over and over in Lizzie's head, so much so that she barely noticed the whispers and glances being thrown her way, or Susan's repeated calling of her name, or even the sandwich that she was currently biting into. _Did I do the right thing?_ She kept wondering. _Oh, I really shouldn't have done that!_

"Lizzie!" It was Hannah's voice that finally pulled her out of her reverie, thankfully ending the stream of guilty thoughts running through her head as well.

"What?"

Susan, who was sitting on Lizzie's left, pouted. "Why does she respond to you and not me?" She said, addressing Hannah, who was sitting across from them.

Hannah shrugged and smirked, before facing Lizzie. "So, what are you going to do?" She asked seriously.

"What do you mean?"

"About the scroll, you going to give it to Sprout or what?" Hannah asked, grabbing an orange from the table.

Lizzie opened her mouth, but Ernie, who was on Hannah's right, answered for her. "Of course she has to give it to her. Umbridge told her to, after all," he said pompously, the prefect badge on his chest gleaming.

Hannah rolled her eyes, "She doesn't have to though."

"What, like Lizzie is just going to ignore a teacher's orders?" Susan asked skeptically. "She's not rebellious like that."

"Guys," Lizzie tried, but they all ignored her.

"You didn't just see her in class? That's not rebellious to you?" Justin interjected from Susan's other side.

"Guys-"

"Did you not notice she's been in a daze since? She's regretting it, definitely," Susan said.

"Guys!"

"And there's also the fact that we have no idea what's written on the scroll," Susan added.

"Yeah," Ernie agreed. "And whatever is written on there, it doesn't change the fact that she'll probably get in more trouble from not turning it in."

All five of them simultaneously raised their heads to the staff table, where they quickly noticed that Umbridge in all her pink glory was staring down at them with a sweet smile, and they hastily looked back down.

"Still," Justin argued. "She doesn't want to show that she's giving in."

"For once Justin," Hannah said, "You're actually making sense."

He grinned and gave a mock bow. But they were sitting at the table, so, naturally, his head slammed into it. "Ow!" He exclaimed, rubbing his forehead, but they all ignored him.

"And she hasn't turned it in yet, so…" Hannah trailed off.

"But she could just be stalling," Susan pointed out.

 _She's right, for once,_ Lizzie thought. _I am stalling. I've never taken this long just to eat a chicken sandwich._

"GUYS!" Finally, through all the chatter surrounding them, Lizzie managed to get her voice heard. Four heads swiveled towards her simultaneously, Susan and Justin's gazes questioning, while Hannah and Ernie's annoyed.

"First, Hannah, why are you advocating for not turning it in? Did you forget that _you_ were the one who just said that I should've stayed quiet? What's with the sudden turnaround?" Hannah opened her mouth but Lizzie continued on, rounding on Susan and Justin, "Second, who are you to tell me what I'm thinking? I can speak for myself, thank you very much." At this, they both had the good grace to look ashamed, before Lizzie rounded on Ernie, who looked slightly scared for a second. "Third, thank you Ernie for talking about the consequences for not listening to Umbridge, but it's not hard to figure out for myself, thank you very much." Ernie huffed, but Lizzie wasn't done yet, "Fourth, it's just a stupid scroll! It's not that big of a deal. I yelled a bit in class, and I'm probably going to get a detention, and Sprout will figure that out anyhow, and I know that it will disappoint her, but seriously, it's just a scroll. And, more importantly, it is _my decision_. A minor decision. So stop acting as if I'm signing my life away if I do give it."

"Sorry Lizzie," Susan said, sincerely. Justin nodded and mumbled an apology.

"I can admit when I'm wrong," Ernie said, "I thoroughly apologize, Lizzie."

"Hannah?"

Said girl grumbled, but she finally raised her head to meet Lizzie's. "Look, I definitely don't agree with the way you acted during class. But you did, and there's nothing we can do about it. But you voiced your stance, and it shows strength of character to stay unwavering in your convictions. While I don't think you should've yelled like that, I do agree with what you said, and I really don't like Umbridge or what she's been saying. And while I hate that you got yourself in trouble, and possibly the rest of us, you'd gain a lot of respect from others by staying unwavering, even if it does cause you to get in more trouble."

Lizzie sat back, surprised that Hannah had been thinking about it as deeply as she had.

"I mean, you've already shown that you don't care about getting in trouble as much as you do about what you said, so who cares about getting in some more, right?" she added. "I just don't think you should show people that you're going back on what you said. That's why she's making you do it in front of everyone, right? As a statement that you won't do it again. It honestly wouldn't matter too much if it weren't for the 'everyone's watching' factor."

Lizzie sighed, thinking. After a few moments, she decided, "You're right. I won't go back on what I said. But this is just a scroll, it's such a small thing, it doesn't mean that I'm taking my words back. All it does say is that I got in trouble and I'm letting Sprout know. And that I will accept the consequences for my actions. I don't think I should've yelled like that either. And I don't want to show Umbridge that I'm running away from her. So I'm going to swallow my pride and hope that Professor Sprout doesn't get too disappointed." With that, she smiled, reached into her bag, and pulled out the scroll. By this point, she'd scraped her plate clean, so there were no more excuses for stalling.

She stood up and headed towards the staff table, causing several students to stare curiously. _Please stop staring please stop staring please stop staring gahhhh why oh why did I do that? Stupid mouth. Stupid brain. Stupid me. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

She could feel as gradually everyone's eyes landed on her, when she finally reached the table. Umbridge looked as if she'd just become Minister, and Lizzie hurriedly handed a confused Professor Sprout the scroll with barely a smile and greeting before rushing back to her table. Everyone started whispering, and she knew that the students who had been in her class were spreading the knowledge of what happened during it.

 _Great, thanks Umbridge. You not only give me detention and who-knows-what-else, but you also make me suffer public humiliation! Why couldn't you have just told me to give it to my head of house and left it at that? Then I wouldn't have to deal with stupid Hannah and Ernie and Susan and Justin arguing over a stupid scroll._ Lizzie sighed. _I hate Tuesdays._

Hannah was right, again. It honestly wouldn't matter if Umbridge had just told her to give it to Sprout. It was a simple detention slip anyways, and Umbridge could've given it to Sprout herself, or pulled her aside to talk, like teachers have always done with troublesome students.

But this wasn't a simple case of a student being troublesome. There were always students who got in trouble for disrupting a class or arguing with the teacher; this wasn't exactly new. So why had Umbridge made this into a spectacle, Lizzie wondered.

Umbridge was afraid of other students listening to Lizzie, she decided. And adding the knowledge of what had purportedly happened in the class with the Gryffindors the week earlier, it made sense. Umbridge, and, by extension, the Ministry, were afraid of the students rebelling against the class. She was afraid that more people would start thinking like Lizzie did, and that they would turn against her…

…and by extension, the Ministry.

Lizzie felt like she'd just had an epiphany. Of course! The Ministry was afraid of students turning against it, so they sent one of their own to "teach," but really, it was just a cover. The teacher was actually sent just to make sure the students would never think to rise against the Ministry, and if they did think of it…well, they wouldn't have the magic skills necessary to do it, would they? Umbridge was making sure of that.

It was just a theory, but it definitely explained why the Ministry was meddling at Hogwarts, when they've always just left it relatively alone in the past. Or why the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, seemed to suddenly turn against Dumbledore when he seemed to always be on his side just a few months ago. Or why they'd all turned against Harry Potter, the Wizarding World's savior, as well, without bothering to even consider that he might be telling the truth.

So Umbridge had made this into a spectacle. She made it into a statement. She knew that what happened during class would probably be spread so that all the students would end up knowing what happened. And having Lizzie turn in her scroll in front of everyone was probably, in Umbridge's eyes, a public concession.

And maybe it was. But all she was doing was admitting that she shouldn't have lost her temper. It didn't mean that she would give up her views. And she wouldn't give up on voicing them either.

.

Theodore Nott stared curiously, along with most of the rest of the school, as Elizabeth Fairchild walked up to the staff table with a scroll that was colored a nasty shade of pink. They all knew where _that_ likely came from.

What was even more curious was the burst of whispers that erupted from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables as she did so, the same kind of whispers that followed Fairchild as she walked into the Great Hall earlier with her friends. Nothing particularly noteworthy happened here; she just handed the scroll to Professor Sprout and walked back to her table. What was noteworthy was the look on Umbridge's face; it looked as if something miraculous had just occurred.

"There you are, eyeing the Hufflepuff table again," Malfoy said coolly, raising his brows.

Why didn't he ever stop being nosy? What was with his sudden interest in Theo today?

"Simply wondering what all the fuss is about," Theo answered calmly.

Malfoy shrugged, seeming to accept his answer this time.

 _Probably because it's actually true this time._

Well, not really. He couldn't deny, that even if she hadn't caused a spectacle and been surrounded by whispers, he still would have probably glanced over to Fairchild's table a few times.

 _Maybe more than a few times._

He had thought about her words all day, although he'd worked on being less _distracted_ after Malfoy accosted him. He just didn't understand it. He didn't understand this person from the muggle world, from a place so foreign to him he never bothered to think about it.

Until now.

* * *

 **Please follow, favorite, and review!**

 **~Saturn10710~**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wow, I just posted this yesterday and already have five followers and three favs! Thanks to all of you! I hope you keep supporting this story!**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own anything (I wish) except Lizzie.**

* * *

Theo headed to Care of Magical Creatures for that afternoon. Lunch had ended, and by then, the rumours had spread. Theo heard snippets of conversation from other students who were milling around.

"That Hufflepuff girl shouted at Umbridge, I heard!"

"She threw things at her!"

"I heard that she was egging on the other students to attack the teacher!"

"No no, my friend is in her year, Ravenclaw, you know. He said that she stomped out of the classroom because she hated the class so much!"

"Umbridge got so mad that she forced her out of the room!"

"Dragged her by her hair as she was screaming!"

He didn't care. Well, normally he wouldn't. Usually he would dismiss these rumours as just that-false. But this was different.

This was Elizabeth Fairchild, who showed no hesitation in pointing her finger at him and telling him exactly how she felt. And she certainly had no control over her temper, so it wasn't as hard for Theo to believe that she'd exploded at Umbridge as it was for the other students to believe that a Hufflepuff student did that.

Although, some of the rumours were definitely not believable. As hotheaded as Fairchild was, Theo got the feeling that she wouldn't go so far as to throw things at Umbridge or encourage attacking her. After all, she hadn't attacked him, even though it was clear he had offended her somehow last night (although he still didn't entirely understand why. He was just telling the truth).

And he was still trying to decide if the image of Umbridge dragging out a screaming Fairchild by her hair was either so unlikely that it was hilarious, or if it was horrifying.

He still thought that it was unwise of her to yell at the teacher, but he figured that was due to her muggle upbringing. After all, Potter was raised by his muggle relatives, and one look at how he'd turned out was enough to say that his upbringing wasn't proper in the least. The two now had two things in common; childhood and their tendencies to disrespect teachers.

Either way, he didn't like either of them, but at least Fairchild was interesting to converse with.

 _Did I just think that again? I really need to stop._

He remembered that silly bet she'd made that wasn't really a bet but he smirked as he was looking forward to proving her wrong.

 _Since I haven't been able to prove her wrong on anything else…_

Theo shook his head to clear it of traitorous thoughts, forcing himself to only focus on his next class.

When Theo had walked across the lawns to the forest for class, he realized that they were joined by Umbridge herself, clipboard in hand with a quill sharply tapping against it for her inspection with the teacher.

"You do not usually take this class, is that correct?" The woman, all covered in pink as usual, asked Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"Quite correct," the professor responded cheerfully, "I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid."

At the mention of Hagrid, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle immediately started whispering. Theo, who was standing close to them, subconsciously inched away from the three. He didn't particularly like Hagrid, but he didn't like to associate himself with the three buffoons.

Umbridge asked if Grubbly-Plank knew where Hagrid was, and even Theo was slightly curious, but the professor stated that she didn't know – saying it quite cheerfully still – and it was obvious she wasn't lying.

None of them knew where their usual professor was, but Theo didn't think anyone really cared that he was gone for the time being except for Potter and his friends. It was obvious that Professor Grubbly-Plank was much more competent.

Although, his father had told him before he left for Hogwarts that he heard Hagrid was on some business for Dumbledore. It was said casually, but Theo knew the meaning: Hagrid was on some business for the resistance to the Dark Lord.

It was weird. To have most of his life lived in relative peace, only to have the Dark Lord rise again. He didn't want his father to be caught, and thought it was unwise to go on missions for the Dark Lord now after spending so long trying to shed the reputation of dark magic, but he had been raised to believe in the cause, and he was ordered to just go about as if everything was completely normal.

At least he wasn't as stupid as Malfoy. That boy loved dropping hints at Potter. If he didn't wise up soon, Malfoy would end up getting his father caught, and who knew who else.

Umbridge decided to walk around and ask students questions while Grubbly-Plank handed back their drawings from the previous week – she'd made them observe and sketch a bowtruckle with all of its body parts labeled. Theo looked at his and realized he got a few points marked off; he'd missed the names of a few of its parts. Care of Magical Creatures really was one of his worst classes.

Umbridge wandered to the area where Theo was, and he tensed up for a few seconds before she turned to Crabbe and decided to grill him with questions. He supposed he tended to go unnoticed most of the time, because he stood apart from everyone else in the back.

Crabbe answered not one question correctly and Theo grinned.

 _Serves you right for always following Malfoy around. Anyone that stupid deserves the embarrassment._

He also knew it would reflect badly on Hagrid if a fifth year student couldn't answer questions about third year level creatures. He didn't really care, except for the fact that Grubbly-Plank didn't bring in dangerous creatures and, well, actually _taught_.

Theo's opinion of her only went down when Umbridge asked her what she thought of Hogwarts and she responded with, "Dumbledore's excellent."

He was not excellent, he was a muggle-loving fool. Disgrace to the wizarding community.

Umbridge asked about her lessons, and Theo tuned out until she turned back and addressed Goyle. "Now, I hear there have been injuries in this class?"

Goyle looked much too happy at this, and Malfoy rushed to answer for him, "That was me, I was slashed by a hippogriff."

Theo rolled his eyes at this. As incompetent as Hagrid was, even the oaf knew about hippogriffs – and Theo had actually listened when Hagrid told them to not insult them.

Umbridge, however, grinned, reveling in this news, and scribbled wildly on her clipboard.

"Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do!"

There were audible groans from both the Weasel and Mudblood Granger at the words from Potter.

Theo rolled his eyes again. As much as he, surprisingly, agreed with Potter's statement, it was also incredibly stupid of Potter to blurt this out. The whole school knew at this point of Potter's many detentions because he just couldn't hold his mouth shut around Umbridge.

 _Just like Fairchild,_ Theo thought. He then immediately felt like scowling at himself for that. He settled with rolling his eyes, again.

 _Why am I thinking of her again? She's not important._

Umbridge rounded on him. He blinked, expecting her to round on Potter again. "Yes? Is there something you'd like to add?" She asked, a gleam in her eyes.

"Er, what?" He wasn't usually so ineloquent, but he was taken aback by her sudden attention. He'd rarely, if ever, been called on by a teacher. Malfoy snickered, and Theo was reminded again of how much he was starting to be annoyed by him.

"You were there when your classmate was so horribly injured," asked Umbridge in a voice filled with sweetness (it didn't fool anyone), "were you not? Surely you can tell us if Mr. Malfoy listened to Professor Hagrid's instructions, or," she chuckled, "if the professor had any instructions at all?"

Theo belatedly realized that he'd rolled his eyes twice after Potter said his statement, and that Umbridge had noticed, which startled him. He didn't think she'd acknowledged him at all before now.

And apparently, she thought that he was rolling his eyes because he disagreed with Potter's statement. She probably just wanted more reason to give him detention, and thought this was the perfect way to turn even more people against him.

It was clever, actually. She wanted to hear a student speak against Potter. She'd finally figured out that the best way to turn students against Potter was to have one of their own already contradicting him. They were more likely to believe he was lying if a fellow student said he was, rather than if a new teacher did.

There were just a few problems, however. Theo was not as well known or as well liked as Potter was (even after all of the _Daily Prophet_ 's lies). Even in his own house. He was respected, yes, but since he preferred to keep himself company the other students did not know much about him at all. Most people in other houses hardly knew of his existence.

And there was the fact that Theo did not disagree with Potter's statement at all.

Malfoy was a brat, to put it simply. He'd mellowed out a little bit since their youth – but not much. Theo remembered hours of being laughed at by Malfoy and Crabbe, of having their fingers pointed at him, two little pudgy eight year olds pushing down a quiet, solitary eight year old. They stopped bothering with insults towards him in the past few years, but Theo knew that Malfoy still looked down on him.

And suddenly, Theo wanted to put him down in front of this Ministry official the same way that Malfoy had done to him in front of all of their classmates as first years.

However, Theo knew that he had to tread carefully. He knew that it was wise to get on Umbridge's good side, since she had a lot of influence at the Ministry, and it would help the Dark Lord's cause to have even more people think Potter was lying. And it would help his father, along with all the other Death Eaters, if Umbridge favored him. It would lessen the public's suspicions. Many didn't believe his father's claims of being Imperiused to work for the Dark Lord fourteen years ago, and even if those same people didn't think the Dark Lord was back now, they still regarded him with some suspicion.

And having Malfoy be on his good side was also wise. It was best for all of the Death Eaters' children, really, to not make enemies of each other.

Yet, he wanted to see that sickly sweet smile wiped off of her face. And he wanted to be the one smirking at Malfoy for once, not the other way around. And it was just this once…

So in response to her question, he decided to answer somewhat truthfully. He had been pretending to think back to the incident that happened a few years back as he formulated an answer:

"There were instructions, yes," He said carefully. Malfoy suddenly glared and the smile dropped off of Umbridge's face.

"About the listening part, I don't know about that," He shrugged. Then smirked. "But I do know that his injury wasn't all that bad. I suspect that he only wore the cast for so long because of his own inadequacies."

"Excuse me!" Malfoy snarled, and he reached for his wand, but he seemed to remember that Umbridge was standing right there and loosened his hand, letting it swing. Theo smirked.

 _Finally_ , he thought, hearing the sounds of his classmates tittering at Malfoy.

Umbridge looked as if she'd swallowed a lemon, and chose to not comment on what he said. She told Grubbly-Plank that the inspection results would be released within the next ten days, then made for the castle. However, before leaving, she leaned in close to Potter and whispered something (probably something about more detentions), then promptly headed away from them.

They still had about ten minutes left of class, and Theo knew that Malfoy was going to be insufferable for those ten minutes.

"Why did you do that?" Malfoy said immediately after there were no more traces of pink in their sight.

"Do what?" Said Theo, leaning against a tree and observing the bowtruckles. He spotted out of the corner of his eye that Potter and his two idiot friends were trying very hard to look as if they weren't trying very hard to hear what they were saying. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, not when Malfoy was already very angry with him.

 _Serves him right._

"You know what I mean," He hissed. "Why would you make me look like a fool? Aren't we friends?"

Theo straightened up when he heard this. "Now, Malfoy, what makes you think that?" He sneered. "We are acquaintances. That's _it_. As for making you look like a fool, shouldn't you be asking yourself that same question? I was only telling the truth, wasn't I?"

"You-" Malfoy inhaled, then exhaled slowly. "You've been acting funny since this morning. What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Theo said. "I've just realized how annoying you are."

Malfoy's face turned red. "I'm not annoying! Scarhead is the one who's annoying! Honestly, what is going on with you? Did your-" Malfoy lowered his voice.

"Did your father mail you again?"

Honestly, Theo was surprised again by Malfoy. He didn't think Malfoy cared for him at all, or that he noticed parts of Theo that he kept hidden. He was more observant than Theo gave him credit for.

 _Perhaps he's not as stupid as I thought he was._

What confused him even more was that Malfoy seemed genuinely concerned. The way he asked about him gave the impression that he wasn't asking just out of curiosity (or extreme nosiness), but also out of some concern.

Since when did Malfoy care about him?

Of course, he could've just been acting, but Malfoy's acting skills weren't great. At least, not great enough to fool Theo.

"…Yes," Is what came out of Theo's mouth. It wasn't a lie. It just omitted information. Theo had in fact received mail from his father that morning during breakfast, though it was sent through a different owl each time because his father was paranoid. He hadn't opened it yet, though. It sat at the bottom of his bag, waiting until he could open it with no prying eyes.

So no, that wasn't the reason for his distractedness. He barely even remembered it was there, because his mind was…occupied.

But Malfoy didn't need to know that. Theo didn't even need to lie. He would just let Malfoy come to his own conclusions.

"From my understanding," Malfoy turned away from Theo, since class had ended, and he picked up his bag, "You don't seem to have entirely positive feelings towards him, but, we would all appreciate if you didn't take it out on us."

"Noted," Theo said flatly as he picked up his own bag and went ahead of Malfoy.

Perhaps Malfoy was finally maturing. Oh, he was still a little brat, but he'd shown a little bit of maturity just then.

Or maybe Theo's comment to Umbridge knocked Malfoy down a bit from his inflated ego. Maybe he actually did feel a little ashamed of the way he'd acted.

Or maybe it was something else. But Theo wasn't going to bother with thinking about him. He just hoped that Malfoy didn't use his knowledge of his father's letters against him. He'd found one of Theo's weaknesses.

At least Theo knew that one of Malfoy's own weaknesses also included his father.

Theo smirked. He was safe.

* * *

"That was different," Ron said to Harry and Hermione, as they trudged up to the greenhouses for their last class.

They both knew what he was referring to. A Slytherin, humiliating Malfoy. A Slytherin, not bowing down to Umbridge.

They'd only heard the first part of Malfoy's confrontation with Nott afterwards, but it was enough to make them all feel lighter inside. It was unusual to see people stand up to Malfoy in such a way, let alone people of his own house.

And Umbridge's face after Nott made his statement was enough to cheer up all of them. Well, until Umbridge leaned into Harry's face and told him he was getting more detentions. He could still feel her hot breath on his face, even with the chilly air.

For the record, her breath stunk.

"Guess Malfoy's losing control of the Slytherins," Harry laughed, trying to forget the toad's face.

"Poor Malfoy, losing his followers," Ron said, grinning.

"Well that still doesn't mean that you shouldn't've held your temper, Harry," Hermione said, still quite annoyed. "At this rate, you will have cut your hand in half by the end of the school year."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, okay? I'm sorry," Harry grumbled.

"Harry you know I'm only saying this because I-"

"Because you care, he gets it already," Ron cut in, rolling his eyes.

"Well," Hermione sniffed, "Suit yourselves."

She walked up to the greenhouse and didn't hold the door open for them so that it slammed in their faces instead. Hermione grinned.

* * *

As Lizzie headed to Herbology with the Gryffindors, her last class of the day, she dreaded seeing the look of disappointment that no doubt would be on Professor Sprout's face. She'd acted reprehensibly in DADA earlier today, and she knew that, but strangely enough, it was Hannah's words that alleviated some of the guilt sitting in her chest since then. Hannah was right, she couldn't turn back time (it was really hard to get your hands on a time-turner) and so she should just deal with the fact that she'd yelled at a teacher, accept the consequences, and try not to do it again. There was no use fretting over it.

At least Umbridge wasn't inspecting Herbology today. Lizzie didn't think she could handle seeing the toad in such close proximity so soon.

Professor Sprout explained the assignment for the day and waited until everyone had started working, before she pulled Lizzie outside the greenhouse to talk privately. She held up the scroll.

"You know what this says, don't you?" Sprout asked.

"Well, yes," Lizzie hesitated. "The general idea, I mean."

Sprout sucked in a breath. "Professor Umbridge says that you were disruptive during class. Is this true?"

Lizzie lowered her head; she couldn't meet her teacher's gaze. "Yes."

"And that you shouted at her?"

Lizzie merely nodded.

Sprout gave a deep sigh. "Also that you were trying to turn the students against her? That you encouraged people to protest the class material?"

That's when Lizzie raised her head. "I didn't."

"Really?" Sprout questioned. Lizzie nodded. "Alright, then what did happen? You've never been the type to shout at teacher. You've always done well in your classes. Even when you were struggling with the material, you always managed to pass. So what caused you to act in this way?"

"Honestly, it just started as a genuine question," Lizzie explained. At Sprout's skeptical look, she continued. "I just…I lost my temper?"

"Elizabeth, don't be difficult."

Lizzie swallowed and decided to explain the whole thing. "I just had an honest question about whether we were ever going to have a practical lesson instead of just reading out of the book, but then when she said we didn't need to use spells to learn, I didn't understand it…so it just kind of escalated from there," She admitted sheepishly. "But honestly, I wasn't trying to turn people against her or anything, and I never encouraged other people either. They started protesting all on their own."

"I understand that many students do not, well," Sprout scanned their surroundings quickly, making sure no one was in hearing range, before lowering her voice, "particularly like our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, nor the way she is teaching, but, Elizabeth, you must keep your temper. She has been sent here to oversee the way Hogwarts is running, and if she does not like what she sees, she will go straight back to the Minister. We can't have students openly rejecting her, because it will only reflect badly on our headmaster, not to mention put you in trouble, and will cause the Ministry to interfere more than they already have. You do not want _all_ of your classes to change, do you?"

"No…I-you're right. I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have done that."

"I am glad you are self-aware. Now Elizabeth, she's also written that she's given you detention for today and tomorrow at five o'clock. Tonight, right after dinner, you are to head to her office and do not lose your temper again, no matter what she says. Can you do that?"

Lizzie sighed, then nodded. Then a question popped into her head, which she asked before her she could change her mind. "Professor, do you…do you believe that, um, that _he_ is back?" She didn't dare ask this in more than a quiet whisper.

Professor Sprout's eyes widened slightly, understanding who she meant immediately. She deliberated, before choosing her words carefully. "Let's just say that I trust the words of a longtime friend far more than I do the words of longtime strangers. Now, let's go back inside. We can't have you being the reason for another 'disruption of class time,' now can we?"

Lizzie grinned, then followed her professor back into the greenhouse. At least she knew now that Professor Sprout was on her side, even if she had been a slight disappointment.

"Thanks, Professor," Lizzie said, gratitude filling her lungs. Professor Sprout hadn't yelled at her, like she thought she would. Although the concept of Sprout outright yelling was a bit unbelievable.

Sprout glanced at her for a moment as she was tugging on her gloves, before smiling, "I just hope this never happens again. This is going to be a tough year, Elizabeth."

Lizzie nodded, before returning to her friends who had already set up the work station by then.

"So," Hannah hissed under her breath, "What did she say?"

Susan and Ernie, who were also in her group, looked up eagerly. So did Justin, who was in the group next to them.

Lizzie quickly relayed all that Sprout had said, except for the part about You-Know-Who, which Hannah immediately agreed with.

"She's right, Lizzie. You can't lose your temper like a Gryffindor again. I'm not going to tell you to pretend to change your mind or anything, but just try not to blow up again," Hannah pleaded.

"I wonder what detention's going to be like?" Susan mused, "I hope the toad doesn't make you do anything too horrible."

Lizzie was a little surprised at Susan's insulting of a teacher, but she supposed that everyone, even Susan, had a point where they just couldn't hold back anymore.

"Did you just say you have detention with the toad?"

The five turned to face the source of the question, which happened to be one of Potter's friends; Ron Weasley to be exact. He was carrying a tub of fertilizer with him, and Lizzie assumed he was just passing by their table to get to his.

"Lizzie does," Susan answered. He frowned, turning to Lizzie.

"What'd you do? Yell at her?" He joked. Lizzie nodded and his mouth dropped open. "Really? Wow, you don't seem the type to do that though."

"It's kind of hard _not_ to yell at her, to be honest," Lizzie said, at the same time that Justin interjected with, "You didn't hear about it yet?"

"Is that why Sprout pulled you out?" He asked, ignoring Justin. "And why you went up there during lunch?"

"Yeah," Lizzie answered. "I don't like the way she's teaching."

He grinned, "No one does. I don't think even Snape likes her."

"Doesn't Harry have detention?" Ernie asked. "What does she make him do, do you know?"

Ron frowned again, and, a bit hesitantly, replied, "It's, erm, it's not-not great." His ears turned the color of his hair. "Well, I've got to get back," he said, holding up the tub he was carrying. He started walking away.

 _Wow, I hope it's not_ that _bad. I hope that's just his tendency to exaggerate. He has that, right? I heard he does that a lot._

 _Lizzie, what are you doing? Don't you have something important to say?_

 _OH, right!_

"Tell Potter that I believe him and he has my support!" Lizzie called. Her friends turned to her, all bearing looks of surprise. Justin's mouth dropped. Susan shifted uneasily. Ernie blinked. And Hannah, well, Hannah wore an unreadable expression on her face. Other students who were nearby stared at her in shock. Ron Weasley looked over his shoulder and nodded.

"Good luck with the old hag!" He called back. "Harry'll be there too!"

Lizzie turned and exchanged a look with Hannah. "He was acting pretty weird just then, right?" She asked. "It's not just me, right?"

Hannah nodded. "It's not just you. That makes me worried though…although you always make me worried, so this isn't anything new."

"Shut up," Lizzie said, shoving her lightly, but she let out a laugh. But a part inside of her was worried for the storm to come. _At any moment now, Hannah is going to digest what I just said and call me a crazy person who believes in conspiracy theories._

 _Any moment now…_

 _3…2…1…_

"You believe Harry?" Justin demanded. "Why?"

 _Welp, guess it wasn't Hannah then. Up your game, Hannah! Justin's got you beat!_

Lizzie raised her brows. "And you don't? Why?" She asked, mimicking his incredulous tone.

"Well-it's just-you never said anything, I guess…" He said, trailing off.

"You didn't believe him earlier," Ernie explained. "Actually, I recall you questioning me in the same exact manner exactly a week ago, when I'd told Harry the same exact thing."

"I'm sorry," Lizzie said, blushing. "It wasn't so much that I didn't believe you, but-"

"You didn't want to, right," He finished, smiling. "It's alright, I suppose. I understand you were probably scared."

While they were having this conversation, Lizzie noticed that Hannah, Justin, and Susan were staring at the two of them as if they had lost their minds.

"What's wrong, Hannah?" Lizzie asked. "You don't think I'm mad, do you?"

"Well, I, er," Hannah gulped. This was one of the few times where Lizzie had ever seen Hannah at a loss for words.

"Well?" Lizzie insisted. "Going to turn your back on me now, are you?"

Suddenly she felt, again, that same burning on her face. She realized that this was probably what Ernie felt when he voiced support for Harry Potter and the four of them had, well, not exactly singled him out, but certainly made him feel as if he was separate from them. At least for a few days. By then, there was an unspoken agreement to not speak of it, as if it never existed, and they'd all treated him like a friend after that. However, there was still this divide that wove its way through their interactions.

Hannah and Ernie, who had always been good friends, seemed to become more distant with each other.

Lizzie and Susan had been on the fence about it all. Even for the whole summer, Lizzie wasn't sure who to believe. She trusted Dumbledore, yes, but anyone could go senile in old age, couldn't they? Even if they were Dumbledore. And she didn't know Potter as well as Ernie or Hannah or even Justin did. They weren't even on a first name basis. She doubted he even knew her name. She didn't think that they'd ever even spoken to one another.

So it was understandable that she'd doubt You-Know-Who coming back. Especially being muggle-born, and hearing of the horrors that were constant during the war that many of her classmates' families fought in (like Susan's), she really didn't want to hear that he came back. She was in denial.

And Susan, well, Susan was too nice to exclude anyone, even if she did think Ernie was a bit crazy. But then Susan and Lizzie talked about it one night, one-on-one, and Lizzie realized that Susan was just as unsure as she was.

But Lizzie had never talked to Hannah about it, despite Hannah being her closest friend. Despite Hannah always being the first to know of any of Lizzie's secrets, or personal feelings, or anything really.

 _Hannah, you are my best friend. If you leave me, I will jump off a cliff. I'm serious,_ Lizzie thought, willing her thoughts towards Hannah as if she were somehow telepathic. _Please, Hannah, please. You don't have to believe in Potter, just don't turn your back on me._

Hannah cleared her throat, before wrenching off the glove from her right hand and wiping the sweat from her forehead. "Lizzie…and you too Ernie…I just don't think you guys are...well, thinking about this clearly."

"And what does that mean?" Ernie demanded, at the same time that Lizzie protested, "I've had months' worth of thinking, I think I'm thinking pretty clearly!"

Hannah opened her mouth, before looking from Lizzie to Ernie and back to Lizzie, and seemed to think better of it. "You're really not going to budge, are you?"

"Nope," Lizzie said.

"I stand firm in my convictions," Ernie said, puffing out his chest.

 _Way to do one better on me, Ernie. Do you ever just do or say things normally? Y'know, without the pompousness?_

 _Wait…_

"Yeah Hannah," Lizzie said, taking this opportunity. "Didn't you just say during lunch that I would gain respect if I stayed unwavering in my convictions? Weren't you the one encouraging me to not go back on what I said? But you're not respecting Potter nor me nor Ernie for doing just that!"

"Yeah, but that was when the things you said actually made sense! Not, well, you know, saying things with no evidence!"

Lizzie scoffed at that. "No evidence? I didn't have any evidence for any of the things I was saying in Defence!"

"At least they were logical," Hannah argued.

"You mean, logical to you!" Lizzie said, jabbing her finger at Hannah's chest. She didn't realize her friend was so…so…unreasonable. Did she even know Hannah? "I get it now! You said that only because _you_ agreed with what I said. Because the things I shouted at Umbridge were things that made sense in _your_ mind. But now that I'm actually voicing my opinion on something that doesn't make sense to _you_ , I'm not 'standing firm in my convictions' according to you. No, according to you, I've just lost my mind. Just because something doesn't make sense in your mind, it doesn't mean that everyone who thinks it does make sense is crazy. You're not perfect, you know. Not everything is what _you_ think it is!"

Susan, who, at this point, was silent, along with a gaping Justin, broke in with a "Shh!" to remind the two of them that they could have their shouting match elsewhere, because right now they were supposed to be feeding some plant with a ridiculously unpronounceable name, and they were currently surrounded by about thirty other students, who gossiped like there was no tomorrow.

Lizzie felt the burning sensation on her face again. She'd rarely argued with Hannah like this before, and it had never gotten this bad! As she peeked over to the other side of the table, Hannah seemed to feel ashamed too.

"I hope you can stop this now," Susan said sternly, "For I know you two, and especially you Lizzie, would not want to attract more attention."

Sure enough, there were more than just a few curious glances being thrown their way. Although neither Hannah nor Lizzie had raised their voices beyond normal voice level (well, maybe Lizzie had a little bit), and they were in the greenhouse, meaning that there was always a lot of noise going on, several people had been able to tell there was an argument going on, although Lizzie hoped they couldn't make out the words.

"You sounded like a prefect just then, Susan," Ernie said, looking somewhat impressed.

"Well what were you doing instead of doing your job? Standing there waiting for their fight to end?" Susan said, a little miffed. She never got snarky with anyone unless they had really irked her, so Lizzie figured that she was just annoyed at all of them; Hannah and Lizzie for starting it, and Justin and Ernie for being basically useless.

"Sorry Susan, and…and Hannah too," Lizzie hesitated. Hannah was the stubborn one, not her! Why should she have to apologize to Hannah, who'd decided to not listen to what Lizzie and Ernie were saying?

"Lizzie, I'm sorry, I don't think you're mad," Hannah sighed, tugging off her gloves and dusting down her robes, since class was about to end. "I don't know what to believe, honestly. But, you two should at least be more careful. Don't make yourselves targets, you know?"

Lizzie suddenly felt guilty again, for what felt like the millionth time that day. She'd overreacted again, hadn't she? She always did that. She was always jumping to conclusions about people.

Lizzie also brushed herself off as she deliberated on what to say. "Hannah, it's okay. I just, I don't know, I've been thinking about this a lot you know? And I've realized that…that I erm…I don't know, I just think Potter makes sense. To me, at least. I was, well, I was in denial. And I'm not going to pretend that I don't believe him now. And I'm sorry too. I'm trying to get a hold on my temper. It's not working very well," she joked. Hannah attempted to smile, but it fell quickly.

"Alright, fine," Hannah relented, reluctantly. "I suppose I only have myself to blame then?" She let out a chuckle devoid of all humour, "Since I encouraged you to be confident in your beliefs and all."

The bell rung and everyone rushed outside and into the castle. Since Lizzie had to be at detention by five, she wanted to at least swallow _something_ before she had to go meet the toad.

 _Toad is a much better name than Umbridge. Seriously. Where the heck did a name like Umbridge come from? I feel bad for that family. Then again, if they produced someone as horrible as the toad, than they must be pretty horrible themselves too, right?_

 _Wait, no, I'm generalizing again. It's possible that they could've been perfectly nice people, right?_

 _Actually, Lizzie, just STOP THINKING. What the hell is wrong with my brain? Focus on the FOOD girl!_

Lizzie realized that whatever had happened between her and Hannah was not over yet, but she was starving, and she hoped Hannah would at least understand _that_. She gave a smile in Hannah's direction before hurrying to the Great Hall, not caring that she left her friends behind because she was so _hungry_ at this point.

* * *

As Ron headed back to his table, he felt a little guilty about not telling the girl what really went on during Harry's detentions with Umbridge. After all, the girl might have to suffer the same fate, so at least he could've warned her, right?

But Harry was adamant that he tell no one, even though both he and Hermione kept telling him to go to a teacher. And Harry also hated attention, and Ron couldn't risk the group of Hufflepuffs spreading it around. Plus, he really didn't want to deal with the looks of horror on their faces. They would no doubt go to a teacher, and it would get back to Harry, and Ron didn't know what he would do if Harry lost trust in him because of this.

And, well, maybe the old hag was being this horrible to Harry only. Maybe she wouldn't make the girl – Lizzie – do lines with her "special quill."

Then again, Ron knew that he was only making excuses. He felt the guilt settle in his stomach, knowing that he could've warned her, but he didn't.

He reached the table and dropped the tub on the table, glad to be rid of it. It was heavy and smelled bad (probably because it was dragon dung). "Why do you always make me get the refills?" He demanded.

Hermione smiled gratefully, but Harry looked a little curious. "What were Ernie and the others saying to you?"

"Oh, apparently one of them, the blond one, has detention with Umbridge because she yelled at her about the class or something."

Hermione looked scandalized, which Ron thought was hypocritical of her, while Harry glanced over at the group at the far table, before asking, "Which one?"

"The one who went up to the staff table during lunch, said her name was Lizzie or something," Ron shrugged. "And what's your problem 'Mione? You were against her class too."

"Yes, I know, but I didn't yell, and I didn't get a detention," she pointed out. Harry coughed. "Yes, I know Harry that you did do those things, but I never agreed with what you did either."

"Oh, and Harry, she believes you and supports you completely," Ron said. Harry visibly perked up at that, until he said, "And I think she has detention tonight, mate."

"Tonight? But I'll be there too!"

"Good," Hermione said. Ron was surprised. Why was it good that another student might get hurt?

"Maybe _someone_ will finally go tell a teacher!" Hermione exclaimed. _Oh, that's why._

"But she'll get hurt," Harry said.

"I know that," Hermione said, a bit uncomfortably, "but there's nothing we can do about it, is there? There's no way to get her out of detention, unless we tell a teacher, or tell her so she can go tell a teacher, but someone here has several objections to that, doesn't he?"

"Hermione," Harry started, but Ron opened his mouth to cut him off.

"She's right, mate. You have to tell someone at least." Ron thought that Hermione looked a bit pleased that he'd agreed with her, and he couldn't help feeling happy too.

"Look, I don't want to let Umbridge think she won," Harry explained. "Besides, she might not even get the same punishment. She might not even end up finding out about Umbridge's quill."

"But Harry! This has proved that it's not just you who can earn a detention with that woman," Hermione argued. "It's not just about you winning against Umbridge; you could save other people if you told! What if she inflicts the same punishment on her? What would you do then?"

"I…" Harry closed his eyes for a few moments, before he opened them again. "What do you think will happen if a teacher finds out anyway? Umbridge is from the Ministry, do you think the other teachers have power over that? Besides, the detention is in less than an hour, it's not going to do anything to tell her besides maybe warn her about what she's getting into."

.

Hermione sighed, knowing it was true. What could the teachers do on such short notice anyway? Yet, she couldn't help the feeling that Harry was being incredibly selfish.

And she was aiding him in that, wasn't she? At this moment, Hermione really hated that she was so loyal to her friends.

She knew she would feel guilty later. Actually, she'd already started feeling that.

But what could she do?

* * *

Lizzie headed to her detention. Her stomach was grumbling.

 _Argh. Because of Hannah, I didn't get to properly eat breakfast, and I was too worried to enjoy lunch, and because of Umbridge I didn't get to finish my dinner. I now hate everyone. Yep._

She saw Harry Potter walking ahead of her in the same direction, and she walked quicker to catch up with him. She decided to be friendly with him, since she knew that many weren't. And she figured that since they'd never spoken before now, now was a good time as any to get acquainted.

"Hello Potter," Lizzie chirped with a smile on her face, as she caught up to him on the stairs to the third floor.

He jerked to the side to look at her. It seemed that he hadn't even noticed her since he was so deep in his own thoughts.

"Oh, er, hi…"

"Lizzie Fairchild," she said, holding out her hand. He shook it, but it was a rather weird angle since they were both walking next to each other. It worked out, though, and Potter attempted a smile.

"So, I'm joining you in detention with Umbridge tonight," Lizzie said, attempting to make conversation.

"Yeah, I heard," Potter said. "Er, from Ron Weasley, you know."

"I yelled at Umbridge," Lizzie offered freely, sensing his curiosity, "How are we supposed to defend ourselves if we don't even learn properly?"

Potter smiled a real smile this time. "Thanks for supporting me, by the way. Ron told me."

Lizzie returned his smile. "No need to thank me. Believing in the truth should be a given."

"All the same, I do appreciate it," Potter said, but his smile turned into a scowl when he looked ahead of him.

They'd reached the outside of Umbridge's office.

"It's not that bad, right?" Lizzie asked.

"Well, it's, er, you'll see," He said, deflecting. Potter's grimace, however, told her all she needed to know.

Lizzie sighed, then, seeing as her watch told her it was four fifty-nine, she knocked on the door.

"Come in," came a voice like poisoned honey. Lizzie exchanged looks with Potter, before pulling the doors open. As soon as she did, however, she wanted to run away.

She didn't have anything against the color pink. Really.

But this room definitely needed a makeover. Pink wallpaper. Pink trimmings. Pink vases. Pink ornamental plates with cats wearing pink bows on them, all meowing.

And lace. So much lace. Pink lace.

And the pinkest of all, the toad, sipping tea, with a sweet, sweet, smile stuck to her face, unmoving, as if she had glued it in place.

 _She really should've picked green. It would fit the whole "toad" thing better. Plus, wasn't she in Slytherin?_

Umbridge's smile faltered a little when she saw the two of them arriving together, but the glue quickly slapped itself back into place.

"Good evening, Miss Fairchild, Mr. Potter," She said.

"Evening," they both chorused, Lizzie in a cheery voice while Potter said it stiffly.

"You two have arrived at the same time. Good, this makes things a lot easier."

"Actually," Lizzie corrected, "we headed here together. Friends do things together, don't they?"

Potter swiveled to her with a look akin to shock, but he quickly recovered and it was replaced with a grateful smile.

The same couldn't be said for the toad, whose eyes goggled out as she set down her tea on her desk.

"Yes, of course you would be friends," she muttered, before saying in her normal sickly sweet voice, "Well, Mr. Potter, sit down, you know what to do."

He complied without a word, sitting down at a small table covered in lace, dropping his schoolbag next to it. On its surface was a blank sheet of parchment. There was also a long black quill sitting next to it. Strangely, there was no ink.

 _Why do I feel like this is not just lines?_

"Miss Fairchild, come with me. I think it is best to split you up, oh yes," She said. "Mr. Potter, do not think you can slack off, however. I will be able to watch both rooms at once."

 _Right, there's a spell for practically everything. I wish there wasn't though. Potter seems nice. It would be nice to have company besides Umbridge, even if we can't talk to each other._

Lizzie swallowed and followed the professor out the door. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed that Potter seemed to be struggling a bit with writing.

 _Definitely not just lines,_ she thought as the Professor led her to the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom, which was connected to her office.

Umbridge led her to a seat and Lizzie sat down, putting her bag underneath. There was a blank piece of parchment here also, and Umbridge handed her a quill that looked the same as Potter's. Long, thin, and black.

 _The tip looks sharp enough to cut through skin, let alone parchment._

"You will be writing lines today, dear," Umbridge said, as she walked to stand at the front of the room in front of her desk.

 _Do_ not _call me dear._

"Professor, there's no ink?" Lizzie asked. Umbridge's smile just widened. "This special quill of mine doesn't need ink, dear."

Lizzie shuddered at the words "special quill."

 _Special_ definitely _doesn't refer to something good right now._

"What am I writing?"

"Please write, _'I must not defy or pretend to know better than my superiors,'_ " Umbridge said sweetly.

It was a stupid line. And it was kind of long. Oh well. Lizzie could deal with that. Although, when she heard it, she had to hold in the urge to snort.

 _How is she my superior? In what universe?_

But she had to pretend (the irony almost killed her) to be submissive, didn't she?

"Alright," Lizzie said, still confused on how she could write without ink. Then again, the wizarding world always seemed to have surprises.

She shrugged and set quill to parchment: _I must not defy or pretend to know better than my superiors._

She still wondered where the ink would come from.

Her answer was immediate. She gasped, dropping the quill and grabbing her left hand with her right, willing the pain to go away. She squeezed it hard, staring at the words that had appeared on the back of her left hand. It looked as if they were cut into her skin with the very sharp tip of the quill, and in a way, Lizzie mused, it did exactly that.

As she stared, however, a thin film of skin healed over the top. The parts where the words were cut were slightly redder than the rest of her skin, yet it would be difficult to glimpse if not hunched over her hand like Lizzie was.

Lizzie finally gained the courage to look at the parchment. The words had appeared on the page, in a beautiful red shining color. Yet, at one inhale, Lizzie smelled the metallic scent of blood.

 _I was right, I guess. Definitely not just lines._

She looked up and stared at Umbridge, whose smile stretched even further, which Lizzie didn't think was possible. "Is anything the matter, dear?"

"No," said Lizzie, even though everything inside of her, every part of her being, was urging her to spat in her face.

She stared in horror at her maimed hand once more, before picking up the quill again, despite the intense throbbing in her hand, and setting it to the parchment to continue.

"Actually, I-I do have a question, Professor," Lizzie spoke, remembering something.

"Oh, and what is that?" Lizzie wasn't looking but she knew that Umbridge must have an evil grin on her face. All that was missing was the red eyes and twirly mustache.

"H-How many lines?"

"You will write until the message has _sunk in_ ," Umbridge said. "I will let you know when it is suitable for you to finish.

Lizzie nodded, even though in her head she was coming up with the most gruesome ways to kill her.

 _Avada Kedavra would be too nice for this woman._

Lizzie grit her teeth and wrote down again, _I must not defy or pretend to know better than my superiors, I must not defy or pretend to know better than my superiors, I must not defy or pretend to know better than my superiors..._

On and on it went, with Lizzie cutting her hand open to use her own blood for ink, until she thought she couldn't feel her hand anymore. Each time it healed over, and Lizzie hoped that with time it would heal fully. That it didn't leave a scar.

She tried so hard to not let a sound escape her mouth, yet she couldn't help it. She gasped, gagged, and had to take a breather once in a while. She tried to keep her hand unclenched, so the pain wouldn't be as severe.

Oh, she tried so very hard, but she wasn't succeeding very well. And the more she struggled, the more Umbridge seemed to enjoy it.

 _Evil, sadistic woman. I hope you get eaten by flies. It would be such a pathetic death. No one would cry. They'd all laugh as they watched you being devoured by tiny insects, slowly, agonizingly._

After what was surely several hours, Lizzie felt tears coming to her eyes. She'd managed to hold them off, yet now they were threatening to spill. She bit hard on her lip to keep from shrieking and struggled to keep herself from sniffling.

 _How does Potter deal with this_ every day _? Is he inhuman?_

 _No, maybe he is human and I'm just weak. Yeah, that's right. I'm weak. I have no pain tolerance whatsoever._

She vaguely remembered that she was supposed to meet with someone in the library today, but she decided to worry about it later. There was nothing she could do about it now.

Finally, Lizzie heard the "hem, hem," of Umbridge and set down the quill. Umbridge walked towards her and grabbed her hand, seeming satisfied with the results, if her wide grin was anything to go by. Lizzie rather thought it was the perfect smile for a clown. All Umbridge needed was some clown makeup.

Umbridge still had a hold on her hand, and to keep herself from squirming, Lizzie distracted herself by staring out the window, only now realizing that it really had been several hours. The sky was practically pitch black. It must have been midnight by then.

"That is enough for today," Umbridge said softly, "You may go now, Miss Fairchild. Don't forget, tomorrow, same time."

"Yes, Professor," Lizzie said, hurriedly grabbing her bag and dashing out of the room, clutching her hand. She couldn't escape fast enough.

 _I wonder if Potter is done yet,_ Lizzie wondered, as she waited for him to come out of the office.

A few minutes later, he did. He seemed surprised by her waiting for him, but didn't comment on it. They started walking down the corridor towards the stairs.

"Will it start bleeding?" Lizzie asked, holding up her left hand so he could read what it said.

"Not on the first night, no," Potter said.

"But it will if you do it continuously? How the hell do you deal with that anyway? You're super strong," She said.

He fidgeted a little. "I-I'm sorry that you had to go through that," He said finally.

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything. You have it worse than me!" Lizzie said, "I only have it tomorrow and then I'm done."

"Really? She gave me a whole week of detention on the first day," Potter asked, tilting his head.

"Well, I guess since I didn't say anything about You-Know-Who, she wasn't as angry with me," Lizzie said, shrugging. "Speaking of which, what does she make you write?"

"I must not tell lies."

"Oh come on, you already know what I write, so-" Then it clicked. "Oh. _Oh._ That's what she makes you write?"

Potter nodded. "Oh, that's horrible!" Lizzie exclaimed. She paused. "This kind of punishment is way over the top."

"It is," he sighed. They both stopped. They'd reached the stairs, where Lizzie would go down and he would go up to the Gryffindor tower.

"Thanks for supporting me though, in front of Umbridge," He said with a genuine smile.

Lizzie knew he was referring to the "friends" comment. "You don't need to thank me. I knew it would make her mad to see more people being friendly with you. I'm not going to back down in front of her."

"Still," He insisted, "She might punish you even more."

"Nah," Lizzie grinned, "As long as I don't lose my temper again, she can't say I did anything wrong. Speaking of which, you should probably try to control your temper too, from what I've heard."

"Yeah," he admitted sheepishly. Then, a thought occurred to him. "But, what if she decides to put you in detention anyways, even if you didn't yell at her? She might say that you're spreading lies, or something. Or that you're not listening to what's on your hand."

"Well, I wouldn't have done anything wrong, as long as I stayed polite and didn't raise my voice," Lizzie said. "But, if she does, well, I guess it's, ah, what's it called? Civil disobedience?"

He shrugged. Then asked, "Are you going to tell a teacher?"

"Have you told?" Lizzie asked, although she already knew that he didn't, or else why hadn't the other professors done anything yet?

He shook his head. Lizzie didn't ask why, she felt she'd already pried too much.

Although she had a feeling she could guess one of the reasons why. In their past four years, he'd always seemed to want to do things himself. He didn't usually have other people involved in what he did, except his closest friends, even if it was a death mission.

Granted, she didn't know details of his exploits, and many of them were muddled by rumours, but she was sure of this at least.

So he wanted to keep this to himself as well. Why he did this, she didn't know, but she would respect that.

"Well, I don't know, but I guess I'll keep it quiet for the time being," Lizzie said, thinking hard. "Besides, it's our words against hers, a Ministry official with direct ties to Fudge. Not sure if telling will do anything."

He nodded, seeming deep in thought. "Well, good night," he said as he turned to go up the stairs.

"Good night," Lizzie returned, walking down. She considered stopping by the kitchens for a snack, since she was still starving and had insufficient meals all day, but thought better of it. Besides, Hannah would go mad if she found out Lizzie had snuck into the kitchens two nights in a row. She hated when Lizzie risked getting into trouble, and she would probably be extra cross after their row during class.

Also, she had to do her homework; she knew she was going to be awake until dawn.

As she returned to her dorm to grab some extra quills, she realized that one of her roommates was still awake, sitting upright on her bed.

Hannah.

Lizzie remembered that she didn't have to go on patrol today, and stood frozen in the doorway, wishing she could explain without Hannah getting angry again.

Hannah's eyes glittered dangerously in the dark. "What took you so long, Lizzie?"

"I just got back from detention," Lizzie said, gulping.

" _Now?_ " Hannah exclaimed incredulously (well, as much as one could exclaim while in the presence of sleeping classmates), "You can't be serious?"

Lizzie nodded grimly, "It's true. Umbridge just let me out."

"That woman is insane. You haven't done your homework yet either, have you?" Hannah shook her head. "I'm sorry for thinking you were sneaking out again."

Hannah…Lizzie was wrong about Hannah, wasn't she? Hannah stayed awake the night before and today too, even though she didn't have to. Even though she was already missing so much sleep, what with it being O.W.L. year and her prefect duties.

It wasn't just to catch Lizzie in the act of wrongdoing, was it?

It was because Hannah was worried, wasn't she?

Lizzie felt a lump in her throat. "I…I'm sorry for always making you worry," Lizzie said sincerely. She resolved to stop sneaking out unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Alright, you can copy off of mine, okay? Go to sleep and I'll wake you up early," Hannah said, rubbing her eyes, before collapsing into bed.

"Really?" Lizzie asked, exhausted. "Thanks so much."

"Don't mention it," Hannah said, her voice a bit muffled from her blankets. She rolled to face the wall, so her back was to Lizzie, reaching a hand behind her to close her curtains shut.

Still, Lizzie didn't want Hannah to think she was ungrateful. She told herself to promise Hannah something in return, though she was too tired to figure out what yet.

As she slid into bed, she smiled, despite the pain in her hand. Even with Hannah's actions just now, showing that whatever happened between them in Herbology wasn't resolved just yet, Lizzie knew that they would be okay. Their friendship wouldn't be broken by this, Lizzie hoped. She knew. If Hannah's offer was any indication, then it meant that Hannah felt the same way.

The one thought she had before drifting off to sleep was, _I didn't get to go to the library…_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm surprised people are even reading this ohmygosh when I saw people following and favorite-ing I honestly couldn't believe it. But as long as even one person likes this weird mess of a story then I'm happy. I reread this chapter and cringed so many times lol.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. I'm only writing this for myself.**

* * *

Chapter 5-

Lizzie was shaken awake by a sleepy Hannah, who returned to bed as soon as she handed Lizzie her schoolbag.

Obviously, Hannah had a lot of sleep to catch up on, and was trying to gain a wink of sleep whenever she could.

Lizzie felt even guiltier about the way she's gotten overly angry at Hannah – she hadn't yet properly apologized.

The pain in her hand had faded away somewhat, but the skin was still red raw.

Nonetheless, she got ready for the day, then headed down to the common room. She couldn't concentrate on her work with Eloise Midgen and Megan Jones' loud snores.

She sat at a small table near the fire, and pulled out her Arithmancy homework. Hannah didn't take Arithmancy, and Lizzie had it first thing in the morning. She was actually the only Hufflepuff in her year to take the class.

Well, besides Zacharias Smith, but the less said about him the better.

She was glad that she'd chosen to do half of it on Sunday, because Professor Vector assigned a lot of homework, and it was hard. She sometimes wished she'd decided to take Divination instead, which took place at the same time, because from what Hannah said about it, most seemed to take the class as a joke and filled their homework with made up things.

Then she remembered how interesting Arithmancy was and decided that she didn't mind the work too much.

She quickly filled in the number chart, cringing at how subpar her work was, but it would have to do.

 _Sorry Vector. We can't all be Hermione Grangers. I wish she was my friend, maybe she would let me copy off of her…_

Lizzie sighed and stretched. She'd never copied off of someone else in all of her years at Hogwarts. Hufflepuff represented the characteristics of honesty and hard work. So to have Hannah of all people, prefect and proud Hufflepuff, let her copy off of her showed how much Hannah cared about Lizzie, who suddenly felt the lump in her throat again.

 _I am a really bad friend. Wow. Why am I so horrible?_

Lizzie hurriedly scribbled down the essays for Herbology and Charms, changing things here and there from Hannah's work, and set to work on Potions.

She was halfway done when the early risers started appearing in the common room, some looking at her curiously, but most paid her no mind.

Then Hannah arrived. She looked over at Lizzie.

"Done? Good." She snatched her Potions work from the table and stuffed it in her bag along with her other homework, ignoring Lizzie's protests.

"But I-"

Hannah gave her a stern look, which quickly shut Lizzie up. She then marched out of the common room without another word.

 _Figures. I guess she's still mad at me? Not as tired as she was last night, huh?_

 _Why do you have to make me feel so guilty, Hannah? I know I did wrong, but you're the one being stubborn!_

 _I should apologize…_

 _She's my best friend, right? I want to fix this. If she won't, then I will._

Lizzie pulled her Potions textbook towards her and quickly jotted down what she felt was a decent enough finish in about five minutes. It was about an inch too short, but oh, well. She had Hannah to worry about.

She raced out of the room and hurried down to the Great Hall, where Hannah was sitting and happily eating cereal.

 _How does she manage to look so awake when she's been getting less sleep than me this past week while I feel like dying on the floor? I knew it. I'm weak._

Lizzie joined Hannah at the table. "Morning!" She chirped, bumping shoulders lightly as she reached for a jug of milk.

Hannah didn't even look at her and scooted a few inches away.

 _O-kayy, so acting normal won't work, will it?_

"Hannah," Lizzie's voice broke. "Hannah, please, I'm sorry!"

"I'm," Hannah inhaled, "I'm sorry too."

Lizzie held out her arms, and Hannah didn't hesitate to hug her back, not caring that they were in full view of all of the staff and any other students who were up this early.

"Thanks for letting me copy off you," Lizzie said, extremely grateful, "I will forever be indebted to you, Oh Great Hannah!"

Hannah nudged her. "Oh shut up, will you?"

Lizzie grinned madly, "I promise to make it all up to you."

"Oh, don't," Hannah waved it away, blushing. "Anyway, what was detention like?"

"Lines," Lizzie said. She was about to add that they were a _very special_ type of lines, but just then, Susan joined them, Ernie in tow.

"Where's Justin?" Lizzie asked, as they seated themselves across from her and Hannah.

"Just woke up when I left," Ernie explained. Then he gazed in scrutiny at the two of them. "I see you two have made up? Good."

"Guys," Susan said quietly, leaning in close, since at this time many other students had arrived. The others followed suit. "I've been thinking a lot lately, and I think…" She gulped, "I think Potter might be right.

Lizzie grinned. Ernie puffed out his chest, declaring, "It's great that you have finally started to see sense."

Hannah, however, shifted uncomfortably in her seat, biting her lip.

"Oh come off it, Hannah," Lizzie pleaded, "You've got to at least consider-"

"No I-" Hannah swallowed. "I won't say anything, alright?"

"Anything about what?" Justin asked. The four of them, startled, jolted and swiveled their heads towards Justin.

"Come sit!" Susan said, pulling him down next to her. She lowered her voice again, "We were talking about how I believe Potter now."

Ignoring Justin's dumbstruck face, she continued, "Well, I told Hannah this last night, but my auntie was the one interrogating Harry Potter at his trial," she said.

"Wait, trial?" Justin asked, eyes wide.

"You didn't hear? Potter got in trouble for underage magic or something," Hannah explained.

"Well, I don't get the _Prophet_ anymore you know," Justin said impatiently, "My parents are muggles if you've forgotten, and I'd rather not give them the chance of finding out that someone's died here."

They all fell silent, remembering Cedric Diggory. Cedric, a few years older than them, who had welcomed them all into Hufflepuff. Cedric, who always took the time to learn every new Hufflepuff's name and never let anyone become lonely. Cedric, who always stood up for anyone being bullied. Cedric, Hufflepuff's champion.

"Sorry," Hannah finally muttered. "But… if you must know, it wasn't even in the _Prophet._ It was just a rumour going around."

"Well, I live in the muggle world," Justin said, looking away. "Wizard rumours don't really reach me. Everyone just assumes I know everything when I come here, but I don't, really."

"Sorry," Lizzie said, "I should've told you; Hannah told me earlier this year, but I guess no one bothered to tell you."

"Sorry," Hannah said again. Lizzie spied Hannah kicking her leg forward under the table, and there was a sudden "Ow!" from Ernie, who then shot a glare towards Hannah, who returned the gaze with equal force.

Ernie cleared his throat, "Sorry, Justin."

Hannah nodded in approval. "So Susan, about the trial…?"

"Right, so he got in trouble because he produced a Patronus in front of a muggle – his cousin – and he claimed that it was because there were dementors there-"

"Dementors?" Justin exclaimed, shocked, his spoonful of oatmeal stopped halfway to his mouth. Susan shushed him.

"Well, anyway," Susan continued in a whisper, ignoring Justin's gaping face, "He got off, obviously, or he wouldn't be here. So I was thinking, Potter could've just been lying about dementors to get off, but then why would he cast a Patronus in the first place? I mean, he's not the brightest person, but even he should've known that it would get him expelled."

"Well – maybe – he just didn't care?" Justin asked, "I mean, I've always thought he was a little off his rocker, speaking to snakes and all that."

"Yes, but he saved the school, didn't he?" Lizzie pointed out. "More than once. And he was perfectly sane and normal and nice at detention last night. I don't think he would do something like that without a reason."

"Right, I'd forgotten, how was it?" Susan asked. Lizzie hesitated, wondering what to say. She'd wanted to tell Hannah when it was just the two of them, but she didn't want to say it now, what with four pairs of eyes all looking at her curiously.

And she wasn't as close with Ernie and Justin and Susan as much as she was with Hannah. She wasn't sure how they'd react, and somehow, this felt like something Lizzie should keep to herself.

"She made me do lines," Lizzie said finally. It wasn't technically a lie, so why was she feeling as if she was doing something wrong?

Hannah, who'd noticed Lizzie's hesitation, gave her a sideways look. One that said _we will talk about this_.

"That's not too bad," Ernie said, offering a smile. "It could've been worse. From the way Ron acted I thought it was something horrible!"

Susan smiled, then pursed her lips. "Well, anyway, Justin, Lizzie's right. Also, if he didn't care, then why would he show up at his trial at all? Why would he act as if he really didn't want to be expelled? Why have witnesses come in for him, one of them being Dumbledore-"

"He was there?" Justin questioned, remembering to lower his voice this time.

Susan nodded. "Anyway, the situation just doesn't add up. My auntie figures that there were actually dementors there, but then that raises up the question of just _why_ they were there instead of guarding Azkaban, and, well, Dumbledore said some pretty incriminating things against the Ministry."

"Like what?" Lizzie asked, but Ernie seemed to understand completely, as he leaned in, and spoke in a hushed whisper even quieter than Susan's, "Dumbledore thinks the _Ministry_ sent them?"

 _What? I know they're paranoid, but…what?_

Susan nodded again. "I'm not sure how true that is, but it's clear that someone sent dementors to Potter this summer. Someone wanted him to die. Or, even if they expected him to defend himself, they knew that he would get in trouble with the Ministry. They wanted to discredit him more than they already had. They don't want him at Hogwarts this year."

"So you think You-Know-Who sent them?" Lizzie asked.

"Either that, but then that means that the Ministry doesn't have control over the dementors anymore, so," Susan started chewing on her lip, "I personally think that someone from the Ministry sent them."

"That's…" Lizzie hesitated, before remembering the realization she'd come to yesterday. She told them her theory about the Ministry being afraid of students rebelling against it, so Umbridge was sent to make sure that would never happen.

"That's also why she's not letting us learn defensive spells in class, she's trying to keep us from ever using those spells against her or the Ministry," Lizzie finished excitedly, but remembered to whisper before Susan could shush her.

"So Fudge thinks that Potter and Dumbledore are lying because, what, he thinks they're trying to form an uprising?" Justin asked skeptically.

"That…actually kind of makes sense," Hannah said quietly, speaking for the first time since Justin arrived.

At their shocked looks, she hastily explained. "I mean, all this time, I've been wondering, why is the Ministry interfering here? I mean, sure, Dumbledore might be old and possibly not in his right mind with all the You-Know-Who stuff, but the Ministry has been over paranoid lately. They think Dumbledore is trying to cause something along with Harry Potter, but then why would they care about the rest of us? They want to keep the two of them from influencing more students, is my best guess."

"My auntie didn't want to tell me everything," Susan said, "But she hinted at it anyway. Fudge thinks Dumbledore is building an army."

The five of them sat in stunned silence for the rest of breakfast, drinking in all this information.

 _This is ridiculous,_ Lizzie thought, _Obviously, Cornelius Fudge is a paranoid idiot if he thinks that Dumbledore is trying to rebel against the Ministry. They think he's trying to build some sort of army? From the_ students? _That. Is. Insane. Fudge. Is. Insane._

 _Wizards,_ Lizzie sighed, shaking her head, _I'm told at eleven that I need to come here to learn magic and that the headmaster is amazing, now I'm told that I can't learn magic and that the headmaster is crazy._

As they were about to get up to go to their classes, a thought occurred to Lizzie.

"Wait, but if You-Know-Who is back," She gulped, "Doesn't that mean that the Ministry is actually just making everything easier for him? Unintentionally, but…what if there was someone…one of his followers maybe…who's part of the Ministry and influencing the Minister? What if this is all You-Know-Who's plan?"

"Whoa, hey," Justin held up his hands, "I never said that I don't still think Harry is a little…" He gestured with his hands.

"I never said he wasn't crazy or that I believe him now," Hannah said, "But I think…I think I can understand you guys a little more."

"Thanks Hannah," Susan smiled, "but, Lizzie, I do think that might be possible. Granted, my auntie always said Fudge sometimes comes up with absurd enough ideas on his own, but...to think that Dumbledore wants to train students to defy the Ministry is a little…well…only someone completely irrational would think that."

Justin coughed. "Well Fudge is plenty irrational on his own, isn't he?"

Lizzie laughed. "Come on, let's get to class," She said, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

"I still wonder why you decided to take Arithmancy," Justin said as they walked. "I mean, maybe you're the irrational one."

"At least Vector isn't a fraud who doesn't know what she's doing," Lizzie said.

Hannah giggled. "At least we don't have to spend hours on homework."

"Point taken," Lizzie said, "But the subject is interesting. Anyways, see you in Potions!" She waved as they separated paths.

"I do hope you five realize you were being incredibly suspicious."

Lizzie swiveled around, her heart jumping to her throat.

 _Oh_ , she sighed in relief, _it's only Zacharias Smith._

And then it registered.

 _Ugh. Not him._

Despite her thoughts, she smiled at him. "Hello Zacharias. How are you this morning?"

"Well," he said simply, as they walked to Arithmancy together.

 _Wow, not even asking in return. Rude._

"As I was saying, quite suspicious, weren't you? Huddling together, whispering together."

 _And nosy too._

Lizzie remembered her cut hand and surreptitiously tugged her sleeve over it. She didn't want _him_ of all people to notice.

"And?" Lizzie asked, her voice losing some of the polite quality it had earlier.

"Well, just wondering," He answered, raising an eyebrow.

"Quite self-important, aren't you? To think that I would just tell you what we were talking about. As if you've ever made an effort to be friendly with us. Why should I tell you?" Lizzie retorted.

Then immediately realized what she'd said and stared at the floor, her face burning.

Zacharias raised his chin. "Well then," He sniffed, clearly affronted, "Excuse me for my curiosity."

He walked ahead of her, nose up in the air.

 _Why is the one thing I seem to do well is offend people? I really need a filter on my mouth. Wonder if wizards have a spell for that? That'd be nice. Necessary, even._

Of course, she didn't like him very much, but she had to acknowledge that he hadn't been _totally_ in the wrong in asking her. They undoubtedly did look a little suspicious at breakfast, and Lizzie knew that several people must have been curious about what they were discussing.

 _He could bear to be a bit nicer though, couldn't he? Ugh. He's never even_ tried _to be friendly with anyone. Why is he in Hufflepuff again?_

She normally didn't have to deal with him until she was actually in the classroom. They normally sat together, because they were the only Hufflepuffs in the room, and, now that she thought about it, Lizzie hadn't made any good friends from outside her house.

Maybe it was time to change that.

* * *

Theo sat down in the back of the Arithmancy classroom. This was actually one of his favorite classes. He didn't mind the workload, much. Professor Vector was strict, yes, but she was fair.

It was also a nice respite from his fellow Slytherins; none had wanted to take Arithmancy. He didn't hate them, no, but he did find them annoying from time to time. Like Malfoy.

Also, he preferred being alone. He didn't like to talk, and as he was the only Slytherin in this class, no one attempted to make him. He sat alone while everyone else sat in pairs or groups of three, and, honestly, he preferred it this way.

.

Lizzie entered the room and sat down in her usual seat. She leaned over to Zacharias as Vector started collecting the homework.

"Sorry," She said, "I wasn't, er, in the best mood today. I shouldn't have said that."

"So will you tell me now?" He asked eagerly.

 _This is precisely why I don't like you. Mind your own business._

However, she forced her tone to remain polite as she smiled and said, "No, it's kind of private. Besides, it's not for me to tell."

He scoffed and turned his head away.

"Miss Fairchild! Mr. Smith!"

Lizzie's eyes snapped to the front of the classroom, where Professor Vector stood with her arms crossed. She felt everyone's eyes on her and Smith.

"Are you two finished whispering back there? I might have to split you up."

"Sorry," Lizzie said, cringing as she lowered her head. She hadn't realized that Vector had started the lesson.

"No, I will split you up. Miss Fairchild, go sit with Mr. Nott. Mr. Smith, stay where you are," She instructed sternly.

"Okay, Professor," Lizzie said, grabbing her bag and moving seats. She was actually glad the professor told her to move. Now she had an excuse to not sit with Zacharias. At least for today, that was.

Then she remembered that she was supposed to meet Nott in the library yesterday and cursed inwardly.

 _Well, he was probably happy about it, right?_

 _Well…_

 _Argh, why did Umbridge have to give me detention on the same day? Why did I get myself in detention? Why can I never hold my mouth shut? Why did I even make that silly bet in the first place?_

"Hi," She said quietly as she sat down, before concentrating all of her attention on the professor.

.

Theo made no indication that he'd heard her. He knew she probably felt slighted, but, well, since when did he care about the feelings of a Mudblood?

He still couldn't get it out of his head. The words that she'd said two nights before were still weaving their way through his brain and swirling through his thoughts.

And now she had to be all talkative and make Professor Vector move her.

To sit next to him. He drew in a breath. He'd told himself at the end of the day yesterday, _no more distractedness_.

Theo had sat in the library after dinner, as he always did, yet he couldn't focus on his reading or homework because he kept wondering when – or if – she'd show up. She hadn't, and he wondered if maybe she had been given detention with Umbridge. It would make sense.

A part of him, however, the snide part of him, wondered if she'd merely lost all the confidence she'd had before, and was too embarrassed to face him, knowing she'd lose.

But Theo couldn't ask her. Couldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing that he was waiting for her. That her words had permeated his brain and refused to leave, or that a part of him had in fact been looking forward to seeing her.

She was one of the few people he'd ever had such a long conversation with. Well, it'd turned into more of a debate, but it was something that had always been lacking whenever he conversed with the people in his own house.

He'd never given any thought to Mudbloods, ever. And he hated that now he couldn't get a certain one out of his head. But it was true, wasn't it? She was a good speaker. She had this way of formulating her words that made him want to listen.

She wasn't stupid. Certainly not. And neither were the other Mudbloods in his year, namely Hermione Granger, who was currently sitting at the front of the room with all the Ravenclaws.

Still, despite Hermione Granger's academic skills and Elizabeth Fairchild's speaking skills, purebloods were still better. They didn't need to overcompensate for anything. Theo suspected that Granger and Fairchild and others like them only tried so hard because deep down, they knew they were inferior. They knew they couldn't get far on their own. They knew that the blood running through their veins was dirty, was muddy, so they were hard on themselves so that they, and others, might eventually forget where their roots were.

But Theo wouldn't forget. He wouldn't forget where they came from. He wouldn't forget that they didn't deserve a place in his world, even if others insisted on shoving them in. He would shove them back and continue with his life.

Professor Vector finished her lesson and assigned the homework: more number charts. Theo heard the girl to his left groan and he rolled his eyes.

 _Of course. Why do people take such classes if they know they aren't capable of handling the work?_

 _Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she thought this class was easy because she was too stupid to think otherwise._

Theo knew he wasn't being fair. Did he care? No, not really. It wasn't as if he was saying it aloud, anyhow.

They had twenty minutes left of class in which Vector let them work on the assignment, and she allowed the students to talk amongst themselves, as long as it stayed beneath a certain noise level and didn't disrupt others.

"Ahem," Faichild cleared her throat, and Theo finally allowed himself to look at her. She looked embarrassed.

 _I would never show my feelings so candidly. So uncivilized._

"So, er, sorry that I didn't go to the library yesterday," She said finally. "I had a, er, a detention. With Umbridge."

"I figured," He said. At her questioning look, he elaborated, "Rumours circulate quickly. I'm sure the whole school has heard by now."

Her face turned red and for a few minutes they said nothing, the only sound between them the scratching of their quills.

Then she yawned and he couldn't keep himself from commenting.

Perhaps he was still looking for some flaw within her…

"Not feeling awake yet, are you?"

"Well, er, I woke up early to finish the Arithmancy work," She explained, crossing out one of the numbers on her chart, realizing she wrote the wrong one.

 _Well, certainly smarter than I thought._

He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't have the heart to finish after detention last night? Went straight to sleep?"

"Actually, yes," She said evenly. He was surprised, maybe even a little impressed that his attempts to rile her up weren't working. "I got to my dorm a little after midnight, so I'm sure you can understand."

"That long?" He couldn't keep himself from showing his surprise at that, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. "That must have been six or seven hours."

"Seven, yeah," She answered glumly. "Didn't even get to eat a proper dinner. My hand aches so much."

"Lines?" He asked. She seemed to realize what she just said and clapped a hand over her mouth, though he couldn't understand why. Nothing she had said seemed incriminating.

She slowly removed her hand from her mouth and let out a light laugh. "Yeah, lines," She said nonchalantly, though he noticed she kept tugging her sleeve over her left hand and was immediately suspicious.

He didn't voice that, though.

She fumbled for her quill and in the process knocked over her inkwell, spilling the contents all over her chart and some on his, too.

"Oh no," She groaned. "Did it get on yours, too? I'm so sorry!"

He sighed and pulled out his wand, muttering a spell that cleaned his paper and hers.

"Oh, thanks," She said, sounding surprised. He shrugged and returned to his work.

Wait, wasn't she left-handed? So shouldn't her inkwell be on the far side of her desk? He glanced over and sure enough, she was writing with her right hand.

 _But back in the library…?_

"I seem to remember you being left-handed," He commented, trying not to sound too suspicious.

"You noticed that?" She asked, incredulous.

"I'm extremely observant," He responded in way of explanation. It was true, he was observant, and he prided himself on it. He always knew more than others did, simply because he bothered to be more watchful of his surroundings than anyone else did.

"Oh, I'm actually ambidextrous," Fairchild said cheerfully. Maybe too cheerfully.

"Ambidextrous?"

"Both-handed," She clarified.

"I know what it means," Theo snapped.

"So, I mean, I normally write with my left hand, but writing the same line for seven hours can hurt. So I switched hands for today," She explained, not even fazed by his retort.

 _Are her hands that weak? Proof that Mudbloods are weaker in every way._

She was lying, though. Theo could tell. Or at least, she was omitting information. The things she said were innocent enough and did make sense, but the way she was determinedly not looking at him and fidgeting were clear signs that she was keeping something from him.

 _Horrible liar, you are. Guess the muggles didn't know how to teach_ that _particular skill._

Theo's curiosity was piqued. He knew he really shouldn't care; if she wanted to lie, that was her problem, but, honestly, why was she bothering with hiding something so trivial such as why she switched her writing hand. Or why she acted strangely when the subject of writing lines during detention came up.

He couldn't just ask her though. He would figure it out eventually, anyway. He always did. So he left it alone for now.

"Hey, er, is the bet still on?" Fairchild asked quietly.

She was still on about that, was she? Theo rolled his eyes, "Sure."

"Okay, but er, I have detention tonight too," She said sheepishly.

He rolled his eyes again. "Of course you do."

"So, tomorrow, then?" She asked, hopeful.

"Alright," he muttered. He was still going to prove her wrong, and then the Mudblood would finally be embarrassed enough to stay away from him.

* * *

Lizzie rubbed the back of her hand, done with another night with Umbridge. It was midnight, again.

"Harry," She asked, addressing the boy walking with her, "How do you deal with this every day?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've only had detention for two nights in a row, and I can barely stand it. This is your second week, and you still have a few more to go! And yet, you're dealing with the pain so much better than I am."

Harry stared at the floor, and said quietly, "I'm not-I just try to…deal with it the best I can, I suppose."

"I managed to not let my pain show too much this time," Lizzie said, "But she's managed to get to me, and she knows it."

"At least you don't have to deal with her anymore," Harry grumbled.

"Right, sorry," Lizzie said embarrassedly, "I forgot. You've got the rest of the week, don't you? Well, don't lose your head anymore. I'll try not to also."

"Sure."

"Goodnight," Lizzie said, as they'd reached the stairs, "Good luck."

"Thanks," He said, smiling, "Goodnight."

When she got to her dorm, it wasn't just Hannah that was awake, but Susan as well.

"Did you stay up for me?" Lizzie asked, touched. Hannah nodded and Susan smiled.

"Your detention isn't just lines, is it?" Susan asked knowingly.

 _Damn. More perceptive than I thought._

Lizzie had planned to tell only Hannah, but, since Susan had also noticed that something was strange, Lizzie decided to just tell the both of them the truth.

She showed them her hand and, as she'd suspected, they both had looks of horror on their faces.

"Tell Sprout!" yelled Hannah (in as quiet a voice as she could muster) while Susan urged, "Go to Dumbledore!"

Eloise Midgen let out a snore and they all froze. She turned in her sleep and Lizzie let out a breath in relief.

 _If the whole school finds out…I don't know what I'll do. Something. Something that hopefully_ doesn't _involve hiding under my covers for the rest of term._

"Guys, I'm tired, can we talk about this tomorrow?" Lizzie said, exhausted, as she was barely even able to drag herself to bed.

"Fine," Hannah said, but the look she gave Lizzie told her that Hannah wouldn't let go of this in the morning. "I'll wake you up early again."

"Really? Thanks again, Hannah. I promise to pay you back," Lizzie said, her voice muffled by her covers. She'd completely forgotten about homework. She was so tired.

 _Again, how does Potter deal with this every day?_

"No need for that," Hannah said, yawning. "Just promise me you won't get yourself in detention with her again."

"Promise," Lizzie said, before she let the tendrils of sleep take over.

 _I'll still pay you back somehow._

* * *

Lizzie yawned as she walked into the library the next day. She'd gone to sleep just a little after midnight and Hannah woke her up early that morning so she could copy off her work, and Lizzie was absolutely drained after two days of doing so.

 _Again, Potter must be incredible for dealing with this for so long._

Hannah and Susan had pestered her all day about telling someone about her hand, but Lizzie wouldn't budge. They'd argued throughout all their classes, passing notes back and forth until Lizzie decided to just ignore them instead. That didn't last long, though. Lizzie loved talking.

They only agreed to leave it alone, albeit reluctantly, after Lizzie pointed out that Hermione Granger, the smartest person in their year – probably the whole school – probably knew, considering she was best friends with Harry Potter, and yet _she_ hadn't raised a ruckus.

It was after dinner and she'd finally had enough time to eat a proper meal and head to the library, returning to normal.

However, today wasn't normal. She had an agenda. She stood on her toes to look over the heads of students and shelves and there-there he was. Theodore Nott, sitting at the most secluded table, again, reading a book, again.

"Good afternoon!" She called, setting down her bag at the seat across from him.

.

Theo looked up and, at seeing who it was, immediately looked down again. He held in the urge to groan.

 _Why_.

Of course, he was the one who agreed to meet her, so, really, _he_ was to blame, but still. She was sometimes interesting but at other times incredibly annoying.

And what made the Mudblood think she could sit with him again? Really. He had expected her to waltz in as she did just now and immediately leave after failing to find a section he hadn't read from yet. What he hadn't expected her to do was settle herself down and do her homework while she was at it.

 _I'm going to have to deal with her for a while now, aren't I?_

Theo wanted to get up and leave just then. He really wasn't ready for her cheerful disposition just yet. However, he couldn't walk out and make her think she somehow intimidated him or that he wasn't confident in their bet or whatever it was.

He stared at his work and figured he could just finish it later in the common room. Obviously he wouldn't be able to concentrate with this girl beaming at him brighter than the sun itself.

.

Lizzie sat down and pulled out her parchment. Nott hadn't even bothered to respond to her, but she didn't let it get to her. Obviously, he felt uncomfortable by her presence, which was why she chose to be extra sunny today.

She started writing and only when she glanced up did she see him staring at her paper intently.

 _What? Did I write something wrong again?_

Only, no, Lizzie noticed he wasn't exactly staring at her paper, but at her writing hand. Despite the throbbing, she was more comfortable with writing with her left hand, so she had switched back.

 _Shoot._

She hastily made to yank her sleeve over it, but Nott reached across the table and grabbed it, observing the words etched on the surface: _I must not defy or pretend to know better than my superiors._ He stared at it for a few seconds, before letting go.

"Lines, huh?" He asked with an unreadable expression on his face.

She bit her lip. "Yeah, lines."

"Lines that cut into your hand."

"Yeah. She had this 'special quill,'" She said, holding up air quotes. "I tried _episkey_ , didn't work."

He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. "Have you told anyone?"

"No," Lizzie said grumpily. He looked skeptical at that. "I mean, I've told two of my friends, and obviously Harry Potter and probably his friends know too, but other than that…"

"So no one with authority?" Nott asked, eyebrow raised. She shook her head.

"Why?"

 _Why is it that when I want to talk, he doesn't, but when it's a subject I'd rather not talk about, he's suddenly all interested and asking questions?_

Lizzie sighed, and decided that she may as well just tell him. It wasn't worth the headache if he wasn't going to drop it.

"Well, so far it's just me and Potter. A muggle-born girl and a so-called liar and crazy person. And who is Umbridge? Who do you think they're going to believe?"

"Point," He acknowledged. "However, has it occurred to you that the use of such a quill might be illegal?"

Lizzie's eyes went wide as saucers. "It is?!"

"Probably," He said, nodding. Still, his eyes hadn't moved from her face. Lizzie got the feeling that every inch of her was being scrutinized, but she kept herself from squirming in her seat.

"Well, even so, it's still just the two of us against a woman with a lot of power and influence," She explained, shaking her head dejectedly. "If we told Professor Dumbledore, well, who'd believe him now? The Ministry's paranoid about Dumbledore, and any claims that he or Potter or any of their supporters make will just be waved away as lies. It would just be used to discredit them further. There won't be an investigation or anything. The Ministry wouldn't want to admit that the woman whom they appointed as High Inquisitor is harming students. They'll just say its Dumbledore's attempt to get rid of her."

"And the other professors?"

"Well, they can't do anything now, can they? Umbridge has more power than they do, and, again, the Ministry will just say it's the professors' attempt to aid Dumbledore. They might even get sacked. And even if we got the other students on our side…Umbridge will just say we've all been brainwashed by Potter or something and that will be that. If we went to the public directly, however…the _Daily Prophet_ will just say it's another conspiracy, and that's the only paper that everyone really reads. The _Prophet_ will just ruin us even more," She explained matter-of-factly, though as she said the words, the reality of the situation hit her. This really was becoming a dictatorship, wasn't it? Propaganda, government control expanding to educational institutions…why didn't she see it before?

.

Theo stared. She'd certainly thought about this thoroughly, hadn't she?

He'd figured that something was up with her left hand, and, when he'd spotted the writing on it, he couldn't believe what he saw. Umbridge was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, surely she wasn't foolish enough to think that she could get away with punishing students like this?

Or, well, Fairchild had a point. Umbridge was comfortable doing this because she knew that with her high position, she wasn't likely to be questioned by anyone unless she harmed students with particularly influential parents.

Fairchild had muggles for parents and Potter didn't have any. The public didn't care about their so-called savior, the Boy-Who-Lived, anymore, and, really, what could _muggles_ do? Nothing. They were useless.

Still, Theo was surprised by Fairchild's rational thinking. He'd expected her to be the kind of person to immediately raise a ruckus about this, but evidently, she was level-headed enough to not go running her mouth and only cause more trouble for herself.

No doubt her clear head was thanks to being unworthily gifted with magic. Mudbloods were so ungrateful, they always took magic for granted, not even acknowledging that without it they would be living in an uncivilized world.

Without magic, she'd be a simple muggle. A simple, savage muggle, with little to no intelligence. And yet, the way she'd spoken, as if it were purebloods that had wronged them? When in fact she owed thanks to purebloods to give her the opportunity to come to this school.

She was certainly being ungrateful now. Sure, Theo didn't like Umbridge, but the fact that a Mudblood decided to protest. What did she think would happen? That the Ministry would fall to their knees?

Clearly, she hadn't yet possessed the level head she was now using.

He'd noticed, that despite the aching she was no doubt feeling in her hand, she was still writing with it. The words, _I must not defy or pretend to know better than my superiors,_ glared at him, and he was reminded that she'd done something that not many others had done. She'd acted…brave.

"Murtlap essence," Theo suggested. She dropped her quill, startled.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Theo rolled his eyes. She couldn't just understand? He elaborated, "A solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles would help with the pain."

"Oh, er, thanks," she said quietly.

"Hey, er, have you finished?" She asked, gesturing to his paper.

"Yes," He said. No, no, he wasn't, but at least he'd be able to leave her presence quicker.

"Great! So, there's this one section I'm sure you've never read from. Come with me," Fairchild said excitedly, standing up.

Well, she switched from subject to subject rather fast.

Reluctantly, Theo stood up and followed her. If any of the other students saw…

But he was curious. Honestly, the curiosity was killing him. She'd seemed so confident when she proposed this silly wager.

They passed by several shelves, and Theo was starting to think that maybe she actually _had_ found a section he hadn't read from yet but it couldn't be.

Yet the trepidation still rose until each step felt like walking through mud. But he couldn't turn back now, so he forced himself through the mud.

Sure enough, they were in probably the most isolated part of the library (barring the restricted section), which he had never been in, had never known was there. The girl leaned on a small shelf, beaming.

"Behold, Nott," She raised her hands and spread them out, like a bird, "The Muggle Books section!"

Theo recoiled as if he'd been burned. "The _muggle_ section?!" He exclaimed with distaste. He uneasily took two steps back. "They have a section like that at Hogwarts?!"

She nodded, crossing her arms smugly. "I can assume, then, that you've never read from here?"

Scowling, he shook his head. He peered at the label on top of the shelf, and sure enough, on the peeling parchment were the words, so faded he could just barely read them, _Muggle Books_. How? Why? How had none of the purebloods heard about this?

He recalled an instance a few years ago, when the Malfoys had been over for dinner. He'd heard Lucius Malfoy telling his father how he'd sent a letter to Dumbledore in which Malfoy had politely asked him to remove one of the stories ( _Fountain of Fair Fortune_ , if he remembered correctly. It was one of Beedle the Bard's stories) in the library, because it encouraged a witch marrying a filthy, cowardly muggle, and yet muggle-loving Dumbledore had refused his simple request.

Mr. Malfoy had been so enraged and promptly told all the others within their social circle, who, upon realizing that they couldn't do anything if they wanted to keep their influence over the Ministry and wizarding society as a whole, strictly forbade their children from ever picking up any copies of Beedle's collection from the Hogwarts library. If even one story within a collection of stories could cause such ruckus, how had he never heard of a whole _section_ of books about muggles? It was a tiny shelf, but still.

"Knew it. Only muggle-borns like me and sometimes half-bloods ever come here. Actually, Madam Pince mentioned to me once that the last pureblood she'd seen wander back here was Arthur Weasley." Her voice had risen in the quality of smugness, and she was smirking now.

How dare she? How dare a Mudblood speak down to him! How dare she stare at him in that manner, as if she knew better than him! The nerve of her!

And what about the fact that they let these books – filth, really – into Hogwarts? It was just filth written by filth. Of course he'd never read from this section, but he was unsurprised to hear about Arthur Weasley – known blood-traitor – having done just that. He was much better than the likes of the Weasleys.

So she wanted Theo to read a muggle book, did she? He'd caught on to her plan. She wanted him to condescend himself to reading something that barely passed for a real book. She thought that she could change his mind, did she?

Suddenly, her actions made sense. The fact that she'd wagered with him right after they'd debated on the role of Mudbloods in society…well, whatever crazy things she was thinking, he wasn't going to change his ideas because of some senseless muggle book. He wondered if he'd even be able to read it – muggles were so simplistic, and had a simple grasp on language as well. Surely something written by them would be much too undemanding for even a wizard of ten years, let alone someone of his intelligence.

His mouth twitched. Of course, he'd do it, he wasn't going to be cowed by the Mudblood, but that didn't mean that he would enjoy it in the slightest.

 _This is what happens when you start thinking that Mudbloods aren't actually that bad. They slither their way into your thoughts, then when they think you've lowered your defenses, they shove pro-muggle filth in your face! I'm such an idiot for conversing with her; I hope she doesn't have some silly impression that we're friends or some rubbish._

"So, I was thinking, I would lessen the consequences a bit –" Theo felt a surge of happiness, he wouldn't have to read a horrible book after all? "– and just have you pick a book of your own choice instead."

Theo deflated. And then it hit him. She was feeling pity! His scowl deepened. He said nothing as he yanked the book closest to him off the shelf without sparing it a glance and sneered at her.

"That one's really interesting, I'm sure you'll enjoy it!" She beamed, looking as if break had come early.

 _If she thinks she's somehow won, well, she has, but she hasn't won my mind. I don't even care about keeping my word anymore. Why should I, when it concerns a Mudblood?_

 _But wait, what if I do read it, and, after she realizes that a silly muggle book will not change my mind, she'll be defeated then! Is it worth it to read this filth to see the crushed look on her face?_

Theo didn't say anything to her as he turned and stalked away, stuffing the book inside his robes. He couldn't risk anyone seeing him with it; he would charm the cover later.

"Good afternoon to you too!" She called. He ignored her.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and follows! You guys have no idea how much your reviews make my day :)**

 **I had the idea to write about Theo a long time ago because we rarely see him in canon and I thought it would be interesting to explore what he could be. And then Lizzie popped out of nowhere with a whole life of her own and became part of a story much bigger than I originally planned. I've tried to do my best in portraying their personalities as two very different people but who somehow, eventually, start to get along. But that's a long way away. I'm glad you guys seem to like Lizzie; I'm trying to make her human and not, you know, just another Mary Sue OC.**

 **Also, I'm sorry for the long wait. Truthfully, I've actually had this up until Chapter 9 all written down for a while now, but perfectionist me hated this chapter and couldn't figure out how to fix it so after weeks of looking over it and stuff I decided I should just post it so I can get through to the next chapters. Hopefully I'm making it out to be a lot worse than it really is. I'm just gonna go ahead and post Chapter 7 too, or else I'll probably just leave it for a few weeks again.**

 **Disclaimer: Do I even need to do this anyway? Obviously, I'm not JK Rowling. I'm just a seventeen year old girl, procrastinator extraordinaire, who escapes the real world by writing fanfics instead of dealing with the stress of the real world. Wow, this got much angstier than I intended. Oops. Enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Chapter 6-

"Hey guys!" Lizzie called as she reached the common room, heading to the couches by the warm fire where all her friends were gathered. She sort of understood why they preferred doing their homework here, but she liked the library's studious atmosphere better. "How are you?"

"Hello," Ernie greeted. Susan smiled while Justin grinned at her and noted, "You seem happy."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Of course she's happy; she's doesn't have detention today."

"That woman is crazy," Justin said. "Keeping you for detention for so long into the night."

"Yeah, that," Lizzie said uneasily, exchanging looks with Hannah, because the long duration wasn't even the worst part of those detentions.

She jumped up. "Well, I'm heading up. Hannah, wanna come?"

"Why?" Ernie asked. "It's barely eight-thirty."

"Er…I just wanna catch up on sleep?" Lizzie tried to say casually, but it came out as more of a question.

"Right…" Ernie said, sounding unconvinced.

But Hannah, amazing Hannah, didn't say anything until they were both alone in their dorm.

"What is it?"

"I heard that murtlap essence or something will help with the pain in my hand," Lizzie said, holding out the body part in question. "But I went to the student store on my way back from the library, and they didn't have any murtlap tentacles or anything left."

"And…?"

"Well, I was wondering if you had any, or something."

"Why would I have any?" Hannah asked, sounding amused.

"I don't know, maybe for Potions or something…" Lizzie said, feeling defensive. Obviously, they didn't need it for Potions, or else Lizzie actually would have some saved up.

"No, no I don't," Hannah said, flopping onto her bed. Just then the door opened and Susan came through.

"Susan, do you happen to have murtlap essence?" Hannah asked. Susan raised her brows as she walked to her bed.

"No, why would I?"

"This girl," Hannah gestured to Lizzie, "apparently needs some for her hand to feel better. And apparently the student store is all run out."

"Madam Pomfrey probably has some," Susan suggested.

"No!" Lizzie said loudly.

Susan's forehead wrinkled. "Why not? Just go to her and say you have a nasty cut-"

"No," Lizzie insisted. "Because then she'll ask how I know that murtlap essence is what I need, and she'll ask to see the cut so she can figure out the best way to heal it, and then she'll see it."

"And as I said before," Hannah said, "It would be better for you and for everyone if the adults in this building were to know about it."

"No," Lizzie said again. "And that is final. It's okay if my hand hurts, it'll go away after a while. It's okay."

"Lizzie," Susan asked carefully. "Now that you say it, I have to ask, where did you hear about the murtlap essence anyway?"

Lizzie was about to answer, when she realized just who had told her.

 _They're going to think I'm crazy for trusting his advice. Actually, they're going to ask why I told him in the first place, and then ask why I'm hanging around him in the library, and…_

 _Why_ am _I listening to his advice anyway?_

"I found it in a book," Lizzie said, surprised at how easily the lie came to her. Maybe because it wasn't _that_ big of a lie. "I was curious."

"Is it really bothering you that much?" Susan asked, concerned. "So much that you had to go and research it?"

"I-no, really, I was just curious-"

"Lizzie, if it's hurting that much than we're going to help you. You should've said something earlier," Hannah said. "You know what, we're going to get that essence, no matter what."

"I-what?"

 _No, no, no. I didn't mean to make you guys think…ugh, I should've just not said anything._

"I'm going on patrol soon, I can go up to the hospital wing and…slip some past Madam Pomfrey."

 _WHAT?_

"Hannah, you can't seriously think of – of _stealing_ from Pomfrey?!" Lizzie exclaimed. "And just for a measly cut that's not even hurting much anymore-"

"Cut the crap, Lizzie," Hannah said, glaring. "You've been through a lot this week, so let me do something to make this week better. Let me do something for you, to make up for the way I treated you earlier."

"Hannah – that argument was _two days ago_. And I wasn't the nicest person either, and I thought we were over it. Besides, you already did so much for me, letting me copy your homework and everything, you don't _owe_ me anything, Hannah," Lizzie protested.

Susan, who until this point had been glancing uneasily between the both of them, piped up. "Lizzie, while I can't condone stealing, you have been through a horrible ordeal this week. I'll go with you Hannah; I can distract Pomfrey with something, say, tell her I haven't been sleeping or something, which isn't exactly a lie, and then you can take it while she's giving me some dreamless sleep potion."

"Good idea," Hannah said, smiling.

Lizzie just gaped at the two of them while they discussed their plan further.

"Guys, what even?" Lizzie said. "You really don't need to do that."

"It's your fault," Hannah said. "If you didn't insist on keeping the detentions to yourself, then we wouldn't need to steal from Pomfrey, would we? We could just go up to her and show her your hand instead, like Susan suggested before?" She smirked when seeing Lizzie grimace.

"Guys!" Lizzie just shook her head, disbelieving. "Ugh, I'm going to sleep," She said, laying back and pulling her covers over herself.

"Okay, but we're going to go whether you're asleep or not," Hannah said in a sing-song voice.

This worked, as Lizzie sighed and yanked her covers away, standing up. "Ugh, fine! Since I can't stop you, I'll go with you."

Hannah grinned. "Good. It'll be an adventure."

The three of them made their way down the stairs, trying to seem inconspicuous when they reached the common room. It didn't work, though, as Ernie called out to them just as they were leaving.

"I thought you were going to sleep? And where are you going at this time? Curfew is starting soon."

Hannah turned around to face Ernie, who had drawn nearer, plastering an innocent smile on her face. "My patrol is starting soon and Susan needs some dreamless sleep potion, so we're accompanying her to the hospital wing."

"And Lizzie?"

"She insisted on coming with me, you know how she is." Susan said, shooting a warning look to Lizzie that basically told her to keep quiet.

 _Yeah, yeah, I know I'm a bad liar. Well, not entirely, since I just managed to lie to_ you _._

"I had no idea you weren't sleeping Susan, are you okay?"

"I'm fine Ernie. It's just stress and all."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with this answer, as he swiveled around and went back to Justin.

As they walked through the emptying corridors, Hannah spoke up. "We wouldn't need to lie to Ernie if you would just tell him what happened to your hand. He'd probably tag along, to be honest."

"No, Hannah, I don't want him to worry about me either. Really, it's unnecessary, all of this," Lizzie refuted. "I mean, look at Harry, dealing with this for two weeks and not a single complaint. I highly doubt he and his friends are stealing from the hospital wing, in any case."

"Maybe he's the reason there's no more in the student store, then," Susan pointed out. "That would make sense."

Lizzie just shook her head, resigned. "If we get caught though, you could lose your badge Hannah."

Hannah shook her head. "They won't. And even if they do…it's okay."

"Are you serious?" Lizzie asked, incredulous. "But you love being a prefect!"

Hannah shrugged. "It's not like I pined for it or anything our first four years. I do love being a prefect…but I honestly didn't expect to get the badge. I mean, I think you and Susan were just as likely to become the prefect."

"Me?" Lizzie laughed. "What are you talking about?"

"Hannah, you deserve that badge the most out of all of us and you know it," Susan said fiercely.

The three of them bickered over who should have been prefect all the way to the hospital wing. They ran into Filch, but Hannah got them through safely by pointing out that it wasn't curfew for the fifth years yet and she was a prefect about to start her patrol and insisted she was doing her duty by escorting the two others to the hospital wing.

Once at their destination, they hatched their plan. Susan, being the best at Charms, tapped Lizzie and Hannah on their heads with her wand as she whispered the incantation, causing Lizzie to feel as if she'd just cracked an egg on her head. Sure enough, though, they were Disillusioned, and Susan knocked loudly on the doors to the hospital wing.

"I haven't been sleeping well these past two weeks," Susan explained to the matron when she was led inside, as Lizzie and Hannah inched their way into the wing and stuck close to the white walls as they approached the door in the back that led to the storage of healing supplies.

"In what way?" Madam Pomfrey asked, as Lizzie and Hannah finally reached the door. "Have you been waking up a lot, or waking up early, or taking a long time to fall asleep?"

"Well, it takes me a long time to fall asleep, and then I'll wake up at least two or three times in the middle of the night."

Lizzie tried the doorknob and inwardly cursed as it was locked, and she didn't want to try any spells lest Pomfrey notice.

"Stress, probably," Pomfrey said, making her way to the storage room and unlocking it herself.

Lizzie took her chance and crawled into the room, not wanting Pomfrey to even get a hint of anything suspicious. Lizzie couldn't see Hannah, but knew she was following close behind.

Pomfrey quickly found the dreamless sleep potion on a shelf and picked up a few small bottles of it, before promptly turning around and leaving the two girls in the room by themselves.

Lizzie didn't dare speak, though. She could see an outline of Hannah, as the charm didn't make one invisible as much as it made them blend into their surroundings. They could only be seen if you knew who you were looking at, which Lizzie did know.

She pointed at the shelf away from her, then pointed to the one behind her, seeing Hannah's barely noticeable nod, before turning around and scanning all the shelves for the one thing she was looking for.

A few minutes later revealed nothing, but Lizzie felt a tug on her arm and for one frightful second thought it was Pomfrey come to get her and Lizzie was prepared to beg to not be expelled, when she realized she couldn't see the hand that was pulling on her and realized it was Hannah.

She saw the jar with the mutlap inside, which in Hannah's hand, looked as if it was floating, before it disappeared into one of said girl's pockets.

The two nodded at each other, before Lizzie tentatively tried pushing open the door, which worked.

 _Seems like it's only locked from the outside._

Lizzie opened it only wide enough for one small person such as herself to slip through and started inching her way along the walls as she did before, hoping Pomfrey wouldn't notice.

That…did not work.

Lizzie saw Hannah's outline barely slip through the door before Pomfrey stalked towards it, shutting them tightly and pointing her wand at it, obviously intending to lock any intruder inside. Lizzie just silently thanked whoever had allowed Lizzie and Hannah to be tiny enough to escape through the small opening.

The two of them held their breaths and inched the rest of the way as fast as they could. A soon as they left the wing, they didn't care anymore about being heard and started running. They met Susan, waiting a little bit away from the hospital wing, pacing nervously. She looked worried as she heard their hurried footsteps, but then smiled when she realized they weren't being chased by anyone.

Susan tapped them each on the head with her wand again, turning them visible again. "There you are," she said brightly.

"Let's go," Lizzie said, and the three of them raced back to the Hufflepuff common room, not daring to stop or even feel relaxed until they were standing outside the entrance, bursting with giggles.

"Thanks so much, guys," Lizzie said between breaths, grateful but also exasperated at her crazy friends.

"That was fun," Hannah said as she handed over the jar of murtlap essence, grinning. "I mean, obviously we should never do that again, but it was fun."

Susan pulled Lizzie inside as they said their goodbyes to Hannah, who left for her patrol.

Lizzie was still in shock at what they did as they crawled in bed, barely noticing their other roommates, Eloise Midgen and Megan Jones talking quietly on the other side of the room while Leanne Williams sat on her bed curled up with a book. She barely even registered Susan opening the jar and shoving her hand inside. Only when the relief finally hit did Lizzie look up at her friend.

"Susan?" Lizzie asked as she sat on her bed with her hand resting in the jar, watching her friend organize the bottles of dreamless sleep potion on her nightstand.

"What?"

"Since when have you not been sleeping?"

"It's nothing to worry about Lizzie; it's just because this year's been so stressful."

"But…you should've gone to Pomfrey earlier. Why didn't you? You only went to her for help because the end goal was helping me…you should've gone to her before tonight."

Susan looked away as she crawled into her own bed next to Lizzie's. "I said, it wasn't anything to worry about."

"Susan," Lizzie said as sternly as she could. "You have to take care of yourself. And…you should've told us, I mean, me and Hannah. You guys know when I'm having any problems, you should tell us when you do. We'd help you, you know, just like you guys helped me."

"I…" Susan sighed. "I thought it was something minor, something I would get over, something that didn't warrant a trip to the hospital."

"I thought the same thing about my hand, you know." Lizzie argued. "That it didn't warrant," she lowered her voice, "what we just did. That I didn't need the murtlap essence as much as you guys made it seem. But then you guys helped me anyway. And I mean, you were so willing to help me for something I saw as minor, so you should help yourself too. Because not sleeping well isn't a minor issue."

"I'm going to sleep, Lizzie," Susan stated, closing her curtains, leaving no room for debate. "Goodnight, Lizzie."

"I…Night, Susan," Lizzie said, resigned, closing her own curtains with her right hand. Her left was still in the jar, which was providing immense relief to her hand.

 _This stuff is great. Wow, Nott really was trustworthy._

Not that she thought he wasn't; she just wasn't sure if she should take his advice. When he had suggested it to her, she'd figured that he probably knew what he was talking about, considering he had already showed he was good at Potions, but she wasn't sure if he had suggested it with genuine intentions or not. Because, well, he hadn't exactly held back when telling her just how much she didn't belong in the wizarding world, had he?

But, well, maybe he was right this time and she was wrong about him. Just this once, though, because that didn't change that he still believed in all that rubbish about muggles and muggle-borns.

* * *

Lizzie woke up bright and happy. She didn't have any detentions last night, and she'd finished all her homework. Plus, Hannah didn't have a reason to stay up because her prefect rounds were early in the night and so the both of them had been able to catch up on some much needed sleep.

It was also Friday, the last day of the week, and Lizzie was ready for the weekend. She was grinning throughout all her classes, because honestly, she was just glad she didn't have to see Umbridge until Tuesday, as the toad had seemed to finish her inspections and so Lizzie wouldn't have to see her until DADA next week.

And, of course, was their crazy hospital wing adventure last night. Lizzie still wasn't completely convinced it wasn't just a dream cooked up by her overactive imagination.

Lizzie waltzed into the library, feeling especially cheerful. She spotted a tall figure with dark hair disappear into the back, and grinned.

She followed him to his usual secluded table, and popped out from behind a shelf.

"Good afternoon!" She called. His eyes snapped up to hers, and he sneered. She didn't let that deter her though. Maybe last week it would have, but she'd already yelled at him and called him rude to his face and he hadn't retaliated so she figured that he wouldn't do anything now.

"So, how was your day?" Lizzie asked, setting down her bag on the floor next to the chair across from his. Was this becoming a regular thing? She didn't know how she felt about that.

Anyway, he seemed visibly annoyed so she smiled brighter, knowing it would only irritate him more.

 _He's like a vampire. All darkness and broodiness and avoiding light._

 _._

Theo inwardly groaned. She really was stupid enough to think they were friends, wasn't she? Well, they weren't, and one stupid muggle book wasn't going to change that.

"Well?" The same voice asked, and he realized she was waiting for an answer. He considered telling her to go away but he would rather she not blow up at him again. He didn't want to attract the attention of the whole library and Madam Pince all at once.

"Well," he said simply. Lie, but she didn't need to know that. His day went as all of his days went. Nothing bad, nothing good. There was a pause, before he added, "And you?"

She stared, clearly surprised. Honestly, Theo had surprised himself as well. Why did he care how her day was? And here he was, trying to show her that they were _not friends!_

"It was great! At least, better than the rest of this week! I'm so done with school. It's a nightmare, honestly."

He shrugged, yet inwardly he did have to agree, that, yes, this school year was already proving to be horrible, and it would probably only go downhill from here.

In any case, it was Friday, and he normally reserved Saturday as his day to do all of his weekend homework. Friday afternoons were reserved for relaxing his brain after a tiring week. So, as usual, he set down his bag and pulled out a book. He used to spend this time drawing in his sketchbook, as well, but then his extremely nosy housemates became curious as to what he was doing so he reverted to simply reading in front of others.

Before opening it, Theo cleared his throat. "How is your hand?" He asked hesitantly, surprising himself again. Since when did he not have a filter on his mouth? And since when did he care about anything concerning the Mudblood?

But he had to admit, grudgingly, that after what happened during that week, he'd reluctantly gained some respect for the girl. She proved herself worthy of the attention of the school, and, well, maybe his. She'd pointed her finger at him and told him exactly why she thought he was wrong (he was still right though), then figured out a plan to get him to read a muggle book, then yelled at the new teacher, then dealt with slicing her hand open for a few nights, then instead of complaining she kept her sense and stayed quiet, and through it all she'd remained bright and positive.

That didn't mean anything, though. She still had no respect for the wizarding world. But he figured that it was a harmless question, and it wasn't _that_ strange. After all, he'd told her about the murtlap essence, and wondered if she remembered and tried it.

She visibly brightened. "Oh, it still hurts, and there might be some scarring I think, but the murtlap stuff worked great! Thanks so much! I told Hannah and Susan and we snuck some from the hospital wing because, well, obviously we couldn't have Madam Pomfrey asking questions and there was none left in the student store. She almost caught us, though."

At this, he laughed. It was so unexpected that he couldn't help it. "Seriously? You? Hufflepuffs? Stole from the hospital wing?" He managed between his laughs.

"Hufflepuffs are loyal to a fault," she said, grinning. "We always help a friend in need, no matter what."

At this, he sobered. He never had a need for friends. Still, it was good that the murtlap worked. Not that Theo doubted his knowledge, but it would really have been humiliating if his suggestion proved to be useless. He didn't exactly know how the quill's magic worked, and didn't know if it left a magical scar that prevented any pain relief. He imagined her gloating over him if it didn't help with the pain.

" _See?"_ she would say in her smug voice, _"I guess Purebloods really aren't everything. You can't even help with pain. How can we trust you Purebloods in hospitals? I suppose we'll just have to replace everyone with muggle-borns now."_

And then there was much cackling. Theo shook his head to clear the ridiculous vision, and opened his book.

"You can't tell anyone, okay?" Fairchild said suddenly, looking as if she regretted something.

"About?"

"About the whole murtlap hospital wing thing."

Theo shrugged. "Telling anyone would mean having to let others know I have associated with you. So, no, I won't."

Fairchild smiled slightly, but it seemed to be hesistant, unsure, as if she didn't know whether she should be grateful or offended by the reason he gave. After a minute she simply responded with a "thanks."

He noticed Fairchild peering over the desk to catch a glimpse of the title of his book, and he held it up, letting a smirk grace his features.

She looked disappointed when she saw it was just _Pioneering in Potions: A History of the Greatest Minds in the Greatest Field_.

Well, he could hardly even admit to himself what he was _really_ reading. He'd actually just finished _Pioneering in Potions_ , which was still in his room, yet to be returned.

No, he'd simply charmed the cover.

When he'd gotten back to his dorm last night, he figured he might as well get it over with and pulled out the muggle book, hidden from his roommates by his curtains that he'd spelled shut.

He expected to be done with it within minutes. Or even, for the book to be filled with gibberish and that he wouldn't be able to read it and he could toss it aside.

And yet, he'd opened up the first chapter and could not put it down. It was a muggle science book; that much he could figure out. And yet he could not understand it – not because it was written by minds equivalent to toddlers, but because it was about a subject he'd never heard of before.

What was _chemistry_? He'd asked that to himself when he saw the title, and the introduction had quickly answered him. He'd gathered that it was similar to alchemy, yet…there were some concepts that he couldn't fully grasp.

He'd read the first chapter, awed by the incredibly detailed explanations and illustrations (in color!) of concepts he hadn't even known existed. He'd been introduced to the words _electron_ and _proton_ and it was all so confusing.

He fell asleep hating himself. He couldn't even understand a muggle book. What was wrong with him? And from the introduction, he'd gathered that the book was meant for fourth years.

Indeed, what was wrong with him? He couldn't even understand, couldn't even grasp something that was written for fourteen year old _muggle children!_

He was a disgrace. A disgrace to his family and to his people. Honestly.

But when Theo woke up in the morning and grabbed his schoolbag, he couldn't stop himself from charming the cover of the book he now hated more than anything else and stuffing it into his bag. He had to finish it. He'd spent an hour just reading the first chapter the night before. He couldn't let Fairchild know that he was struggling with something that should have been so simple.

But he would stick through it, because surely, _surely_ , he could prove her wrong. No, he would prove her wrong.

And he would make Fairchild think that he didn't bother with reading it in his free time, that he'd tossed it aside and would only pick it up tonight, when it actuality he'd been reading it throughout the day. He'd charmed the inside as well so that if anyone looked over his shoulder or if they picked it up, they really would see _Pioneering in Potions_.

And then tomorrow, he would throw it back in her face and tell her that it was so simple he'd gone through the whole thing in an hour. And she would cry, then, because her stupid plan didn't work and she would also realize how inferior her people were.

.

Nott seemed absorbed in his book.

 _He seems to especially love Potions_ , Lizzie mused.

Well, she'd hoped he'd be reading the book from the muggle section, but she supposed that he either didn't care to stick to his word or he was just putting it off until later. Or, he was only reading it in the cover of night, when no one could judge him.

But she wouldn't ask. Not now. She was patient, she could wait.

But there was one thing that she realized she couldn't put off from asking. Not really. At least, if this meeting up in the library was going to be a normal thing. She already knew the answer; she just wanted to know how _he'd_ answer it.

"Er, Nott?" She asked tentatively, positively terrified by what she was going to bring up.

His eyes snapped up to her questioningly. He didn't say anything, which probably meant that he was extra ticked off by her interrupting his reading.

But she couldn't let her nerves fail her now so she plowed on.

"Is Harry Potter lying?" She asked quietly, picking at a spot on her sleeve. She willed her eyes to chance a glance at him and he looked – he looked _livid_.

.

Well, Theo thought she really couldn't throw any more surprises at him.

Evidently, he was wrong.

He knew she was blunt with her words, but not to this extent. He didn't have to ask what she was referring to, it was clear.

A few months ago, after Dumbledore's somber end-of-term speech, Theo remembered the questioning glares people sent his way, the curious glances people threw at him.

 _Dumbledore said You-Know-Who is back_ , they seemed to ask, _Is he right? Your father was one of them, wasn't he? You should know._

And those same looks had continued over the summer every time Theo ventured out into the public, and especially grew whenever he was out with his father.

And they'd only increased when school started, as Harry Potter was brought back to the forefront of everyone's minds.

It's not that those looks didn't exist before. They did. Many people suspected his father lied about being Imperiused to get out of going to Azkaban, and they were right. Not that they needed to know that.

But that meant that Theo, along with other children of Death Eaters who'd also lied, were always the subject of curiosity growing up. Many could never figure out whether their parents' allegiance really was to the Dark Lord, or if they were really forced as they'd said. The only people who knew the truth were the other Death Eaters, who'd all either been thrown in Azkaban, been offered freedom in exchange for betraying the names of others, or claimed to be Imperiused as well.

So, it became the foolproof defense. There were many who were actually Imperiused, so Theo's father and the others just blended in with the rest.

The Ministry was never sure who was telling the truth and who was lying, but they couldn't just imprison everyone, as that would include the innocents.

So they were all let go. And over the course of fourteen years, they had brought up their reputations to become spotless and shiny again, and the looks had gradually decreased.

Until Harry Potter returned with Cedric Diggory's body a few months ago. Then the looks had started back up again, in full force.

And yet, no one had ever asked the question that was on everyone's minds. No one had decided to just walk up to Theo, or Malfoy, or Crabbe, or Goyle, and just ask, "Is Potter lying?"

And why should they? Because if Potter was telling the truth, why would Death Eater's kids sell out their parents?

And if they said yes, Potter is lying, our parents are very much innocent, thank you, how would anyone be able to tell who was lying and who was not?

No one had even thought to ask Theo or the others this question. He leaned back in his chair, unable to decide if he was impressed by her outright bluntness and bravery, or angry at the audacity. He settled for a mixture of both.

He carefully deliberated over his answer, but figured he should stall for a bit.

"Why me?"

.

Lizzie knew he was just stalling. They both knew why she was asking him. But she couldn't just say that, could she? Maybe she could, though. It would certainly be unexpected, another curveball to throw at him. So she forced her shoulders back, head up, eyes looking straight into his.

 _You can do this, Lizzie._

"Fourteen years ago, your father, along with several others, claimed to be Imperiused by You-Know-Who," she said, and he seemed even more taken aback by her straightforwardness. "Whether they were telling the truth or not, I don't care" – she did care, actually, but that wasn't the point – "Either way, they all had the Dark Mark, and from what I know, the Dark Mark is an unbreakable connection with You-Know-Who. If anyone can tell if he is back, that would be those with the Mark imprinted on their forearms, isn't that right?"

.

 _What am I supposed to do?_ Theo asked himself. He'd never expected to just be randomly asked. To have someone just address the hippogriff in the room, without preamble.

He knew how to turn around a conversation, how to manipulate people's words and twist them around like string. But this wasn't string. He'd been hit by a solid brick, a big one, and he couldn't avoid it, nor twist it or turn it in anyway.

So he had to face it head on. He had to catch the brick and somehow move it back. Or throw it back. Or…smash it into pieces.

Yes, that was what he would do.

"I see that your friends have informed you of a lot of things, Fairchild." He stated, forcing a bored tone. "But they've forgotten a lot, haven't they? For one, not everyone who was Imperiused was branded with the Mark, and I can assure you that my father, along with many of his friends, were some of those people who were able to survive with clean forearms. So, I regret to inform you, but I have no idea as to the level of truth of Potter's statements. My connection with You-Know-Who is nonexistent, and I hope you remember that.

"But," he added, clearing his throat, "what I can speculate is that Potter is definitely lying. I know you don't know him too well, and neither do I, but I'm very observant. And from what I have observed, I can tell you that Harry Potter is an attention seeker. And attention seekers are definitely not above lying in order to have the world fall at their feet."

Theo forced his voice to soften, trying to sound sympathetic. "No one knows what happened in that maze. Only Potter does, but he's never had a clean reputation, has he? He entered the Triwizard Tournament, despite being three years underage. He faked his scar hurting to get out of class. He wanted people to feel for him. I know that sometimes it feels like magic can do anything, but nothing can bring back someone from the dead. Harry Potter somehow defeated You-Know-Who as a baby, but when the attention started to wane from him, Potter wanted it back. And he knew that invoking You-Know-Who's name, pretending that he's become a savior for the second time, would get him that attention the fastest."

Hah, despite what Malfoy said, Theo knew Potter was anything but attention seeking. It was obvious from the way he acted so uncomfortable around any of his "fans" that Potter hated attention. But it was worth the try to convince Fairchild. He'd already decided she was a good speaker. If he could convince her, than she could convince others. That was how it worked.

"I see." Fairchild smiled at him, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, but this smile, unlike before, seemed sad, insincere, empty. She looked disappointed, even more than when she thought he wasn't reading her muggle book.

"Well, I'll be off," Fairchild said, picking up her bag and disappearing from his view just as quickly as she'd appeared.

And from that sad smile, Theo knew; he did not convince her in the slightest. He'd just done the opposite, in fact. Somehow, he'd just solidified her trust in Potter. He laid his head down on the table in defeat. Well, at least there was one positive.

 _There's no way she'll hang around me now, now that she knows for sure I'm a Death Eater's son._

* * *

 **Please review and follow!**

 **~Saturn10710~**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7-

Theo woke up on Saturday feeling like there was rock in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down, feeling like he had failed.

And he had, hadn't he? He'd taken his one chance to convince Fairchild of his family's innocence, of the Dark Lord not being back, and he'd ruined it.

Honestly, why had she asked him? Did she really want to know? Now that he looked back on the conversation, it had seemed like she'd already known what to believe.

But then what was the point in asking? If she already knew what his father was, if she already knew that Potter wasn't lying, why did she ask him in the first place?

And for how long had she believed in the truth? Because Theo could not fathom any reason that Fairchild would willingly approach him multiple times if she knew what his father was. There was no way she would.

So maybe she really didn't know. Or maybe she was on the fence about the whole thing and wanted to hear what he had to say, give him a chance to defend his father.

Whatever. He shouldn't care about her. She was just an insignificant Mudblood; he shouldn't care what she thought. She was just one insignificant person, and one more person believing in Potter wasn't going to ruin all of the Dark Lord's plans.

But that wasn't truly the case, Theo realized, as he sat in the Great Hall for breakfast. Malfoy was talking about Quidditch or something but Theo wasn't listening.

Hadn't the whole reason that Theo had originally wanted to convince Fairchild so badly was that he knew she was capable of influencing others?

He watched as she chatted with her friends at the Hufflepuff table.

No, she wasn't insignificant. At least, not in terms of how much influence she had in the school. Of course, she was no Harry Potter or Hermione Granger or Ron Weasley. Theo highly doubted that even everyone in their year knew her name.

But she was capable of holding a lot of influence, because she was a good speaker. And if she wanted, she could attract everyone's attention to herself. She was a vibrant person, and unlike Theo who was largely ignored by the majority of the student – and teacher – population, she could never be blatantly ignored if she didn't want to be.

After all, she had continuously called _his_ attention to herself, even without trying.

She glanced over at his table, and their eyes met. She blinked a few times, before turning away. Theo forced himself to come to his senses and tore his eyes away from her, pretending to be engaged in whatever Malfoy was saying.

Theo was just glad Malfoy was too busy bragging to the others at the table some waffle about being better than Potter and Weasley to bother noticing Theo's fixation on the Hufflepuff table again.

Thankfully, Malfoy seemed to have dropped it. He never really had long attention spans, anyway.

* * *

Lizzie headed out to the Great Lake. There was a nice shaded area on the far side that no one ever went near. It allowed for some privacy. Her friends had wanted to go watch the Hufflepuff Quidditch team practice, but Lizzie had no interest in watching. After all, she much preferred the real games themselves; there was much more excitement and surprise when watching the team play.

Also there was the small detail of Zacharias Smith being on the team (he was a Chaser), and he was kind of annoying.

But that was just a minor reason. Lizzie had never gone to practices, even before he joined the team.

So Hannah, Susan, Ernie, and Justin were off. And Lizzie was left to stare dramatically at the lake. Until she would realize the mountain of homework she had, of course, and rush off to the library at the end of the day.

But that would happen later.

She was so, _so_ stupid. Honestly, why had possessed her to ask such a – such a ridiculous question the day before? She was lucky Nott didn't hex her or something.

Okay, that wasn't fair. _He_ at least seemed to be calm and controlled. Unlike her.

She wasn't a Gryffindor. She wasn't supposed to be impulsive, or blunt, or brave. And yet she'd been all three this week. Yelling at Umbridge, all the stuff with Hannah, the stuff with Nott…

Sure, she was always a bit more impulsive, but not to the degree she'd been this week.

Honestly, maybe it really was just stress because of all the stuff going on since the beginning of the year – no, since summer – no, since Cedric died.

They didn't really know each other; after all, he was several years older than her. Yet she still remembered when she was a terrified first year, feeling like an imposter amongst all those wizards and witches. An imposter to the world she'd only known about for little more than a month.

She remembered when she'd sat in a compartment on the train, all alone until two boys who'd introduced themselves as Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot had joined her; but they spent most of the ride playing Exploding Snap (which she was very curious about) with each other while she was too terrified to talk.

She remembered when she was Sorted. When she'd joined the other first years at the Hufflepuff table at the opening feast, yet didn't partake in the conversation. Cedric, a third year, had noticed her; the small first year who was surrounded by others her age yet was so utterly alone, and slid into the seat next to her.

 _"Hi, I'm Cedric Diggory."_

 _"Oh-er-hi. I'm Lizzie Fairchild. Or, uh, Elizabeth, but no one calls me that unless they're my mum." She turned red, embarrassed at her blurting without thinking._

 _Instead of embarrassing her further, Cedric smiled kindly and held out his hand._

 _"Well I'm very sure I'm not your mum, so, Lizzie, it's nice to meet you."_

 _"Nice to meet you too," Lizzie said, giggling as she shook his hand._

 _"So, how are you?"_

 _"Honestly, terrified. Everyone already knows so much and I didn't…I didn't even know I was a witch until a month ago! I mean…my parents are, I think you call them 'muggles?'"_

 _She watched for any kind of change in expression, but he simply smiled again. "Yes, muggles. But you'll fit in just fine. All first years are pretty clueless, anyway. Besides, there's a lot of other muggle-borns at this school, too, so you're not alone."_

 _She felt a weight in her chest lessen. "Really? That's good to know! Ooh, I wonder if there's any in my year! We could, like, study together and stuff."_

 _He laughed. "Pretty excited, aren't you?"_

 _She turned red again, but, yes, he was right. When he'd started talking to her she felt more comfortable and her fear was starting to leave her. Surely if other people like her were at this school and fitting in with wizards perfectly fine, then surely she could too?_

 _"But you know," Cedric started, "There isn't really much difference between you and people who've known about magic their whole lives, besides that you come from different backgrounds. But that doesn't mean that you necessarily learn differently. There's really not much divide between us, especially in Hufflepuff, where background doesn't matter so much as good character."_

 _"Okay…" Lizzie got the gist of what he was saying, but it would still feel nice to have someone who also had muggles for parents._

 _If there wasn't, though, it would still be okay. After all, she was having a conversation with a third year! And it wasn't too awkward or anything. And from his words, she'd guessed he grew up with wizards, yet he didn't seem to care._

 _Her mother did say she had the ability to make friends wherever she went. Only if she could get over her shyness, though._

 _Before Lizzie could ask about him, Cedric turned to all the other first years and made conversation with each of them too, reassuring all of their fears as well, and Lizzie realized she wasn't getting special treatment or anything. Cedric was just that nice that he cared to know all of the new students more than just their names. He was giving individual attention to all of them._

 _Still, he did talk to her first, probably because he noticed she wasn't talking to anyone._

 _It made her feel better, to know that he didn't seem to see her any differently after she admitted she was muggle-born._

 _And as she listened to the others at the table, she realized they all had the same fears; fitting in, keeping up with classes, making friends._

 _They were all the same, really._

 _She also found out Justin Finch-Fletchley was also muggle-born, and they started talking. It was nice to be able to relate the feelings of not belonging; they shared stories of accidental magic of when they were younger, laughing about how all this time they didn't know what it was. Then she was brought into the fold of conversation with Hannah Abbott (who was a halfblood) and Ernie Macmillan (who was a pureblood) too, who'd known each other for years but included the two muggle-borns without any weirdness._

 _As they walked to the common room for the first time, Lizzie wondered why she was even scared in the first place. They were witches and wizards, not monsters, yet she, without realizing it, had been thinking of them as just that. They were just people, like her._

 _Maybe she really could make a home here._

It was only later that Lizzie realized that Cedric Diggory was actually not usually a very talkative person. Oh, he was friendly but he usually only spoke when someone else spoke to him first.

So the fact that he'd initiated conversation with all of the first years really said a lot about his character. That he was willing to go out of his comfort zone to make the first years feel more comfortable was…well, it was such a Cedric thing to do.

And he did the same thing every year; talked with the new additions to Hufflepuff and made them feel at home. And if he ran into a first year of a different house, he'd talk to them too. He wasn't always successful, though, especially when it came to the Slytherins.

Yet he still tried, and that was enough. More than enough, actually.

And their interactions weren't limited to just the first day; anytime Cedric saw any one of them, he would wave and smile. And if anyone seemed lonely, he would go against his quiet nature once again and talk to them.

She would never forget him. She would never forget how his kindness that first day had evaporated her fear, how he'd helped her become more confident. And how whenever she found herself in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people; she didn't fear the unknown anymore. Or, at least, she tried not to. She would remember Cedric and the first day of school and how she had found a home in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. How he had helped her see the human in everyone and stop fearing people just because they were different.

And Cedric had never known how much of an impact he had on her (he impacted lots of people without even knowing it), and now he would never know.

"Why are you crying? And muttering to yourself again?"

Lizzie jerked her head up, remembering she was standing by the Great Lake, and turned to her side to see the source of the question. To her surprise, it was Nott.

 _Really, world? Anyone could walk by here and you send_ him _?_

What if he laughed at her? Made fun of her for being weak?

Realizing what he'd asked, she touched a hand to her eyes, feeling the wetness.

 _When did I start crying?_

"What's it to you?" She didn't mean for it to come out mean, but she was by herself for a reason and he'd just invaded her solitude. And she really wasn't feeling too happy at the moment either. Couldn't she just reminisce about Cedric in peace? Besides, his tone wasn't exactly concerned either. Nor was it malicious, but still. Didn't he know the concept of privacy? Didn't he know when to leave people alone?

Perhaps this was his revenge for catching him off-guard with her question yesterday, to catch her off-guard now.

So it came out sounding rude. Great. She really wasn't in the mood to argue with Nott.

.

Theo was walking along the Great Lake, hoping to clear his head of, well, any _distractions_.

It proved a moot point, when he saw the lone figure standing by the bank, under the shade of a tree. Namely, the one distraction he was trying to escape from.

He remembered her question the day before and clenched his fists, resisting the urge to leave. No, no, he wouldn't turn around and walk away just because a stupid Mudblood was in the way.

No, he would make her move out of _his_ way.

It was when he got closer that Theo started to think she looked like one of those pathetic heroines in those romance books Pansy Parkinson always talked about. He usually ignored her but she could go on and on in the common room in the loudest voice possible about some supposedly "romantic" scene or the other.

Well, Fairchild certainly looked pathetic. She was standing by the bank, arms around herself, muttering to herself. And there were the tears.

Yes, pathetic.

 _Really, Theo. You are not as low as to insult people because they are in a moment of weakness. Really. Theo you are above riling up people for no reason. You know when to leave people alone, even if said person is the Mudblood girl who keeps bothering you. Even if said Mudblood is a reminder of your failure because you couldn't convince her. You are better than Malfoy –_

"Why are you crying? And muttering to yourself again?" Theo asked, not rudely but not kindly either.

 _Good job Theo. Great self-control, there._

She immediately stopped muttering and looked up, blinking when she saw him. She slowly reached a hand up to her face, looking surprised to feel tears there.

She blinked again, still seemingly in a daze, before her gaze hardened and she spit out, "What's it to you?"

He really shouldn't be surprised.

"Just asking," Theo shrugged, wishing he didn't say anything. Now she will yell at him, and he'll feel another stab at his pride. Just like before.

Instead, Fairchild sighed and sunk to the ground, crossing her legs. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, not looking at him but at the lake instead.

"Can you please go away?" She asked, defeated. "Because I'm not in the mood for – to be made fun of, or – or another argument."

"Neither am I," Theo admitted, leaning against the tree. "And I wasn't – wasn't going to make fun of you."

 _Then what? Why did I talk to her?_

"Really? You're not going to – going to try to exploit seeing me like this as, as like, revenge for yesterday or anything?"

It was Theo's turn to blink. "Revenge for what?"

"For, you know, asking such a personal question like that. I shouldn't have said that," she said, still staring at the lake.

"You shouldn't have," Theo agreed. "I don't like my father being accused of something he is not."

Yes, he was still trying to convince her. Even though he knew it was a fruitless pursuit.

Then she did look at him, scrunching her forehead, tilting her head quizzically. "Right. People don't like being accused of something they are not. But they also don't like being accused of something they are."

Theo stared right back, not wanting to be the first to break eye contact. "You don't know what you are talking about."

Fairchild scoffed. "Oh, that again?" She breathed in. "You really thought you could try to convince me again and then back it up with your default answer to everything? You must be much stupider than I thought."

 _Don't get angry. Do. Not. Get. Angry, Theo. And don't you_ dare _walk away! She'll think you're weak!_

Theo rolled his eyes before pushing himself off the tree. He leaned down, leaning into her face, staring her down. He decided to drop the façade finally. "And what are you going to do about it? You said before, you're just the daughter of muggles. Who'd listen to you?"

Of course, he'd just been thinking earlier that day about how plenty of people would listen to her, but he didn't have to voice that.

Fairchild sniffed, the redness in her eyes fading. "My friends do."

"Do they?" Theo asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fairchild looked up at him, raising her chin defiantly. "They do listen to me, even if not all of them believe me. But they _will_."

Theo straightened up. "Good luck with that," he said sarcastically, smirking. "Maybe by June you'll be lucky enough to convince one person."

She could probably convince a lot of people, but if he could make her think there was no use in trying, then maybe she wouldn't bother to.

"Hah, funny," Fairchild said. "You know, maybe by June _you'll_ be lucky enough to not have your father in Azkaban." She immediately covered up her mouth with her hands in shock.

"What did you say?" Theo demanded.

"I-I didn't mean to say that-it just slipped out-sorry," She stuttered, suddenly having a fearful glint in her eyes. She cleared her throat, but the fear didn't leave. "Really, sorry."

 _Finally, she's actually scared of me again._

Theo wasn't sure why he felt…disappointed at that thought. Because after the way she'd acted before, he expected her to be braver than this.

Then he registered her words, feeling like laughing. Really? She was such a Hufflepuff; not wanting to wrong or insult him, even after knowing exactly what his father was.

 _Okay, yes, just walk away now Theo. Who cares anymore? Just walk away. She's clearly weird enough to not care._

Theo swept past her, past the tree, but she called out to him.

"Your original question…" Fairchild faltered. "If you must know…I was remembering Cedric."

Theo's eyebrows shot up, and he swiveled around to face her. "Diggory? What, did you fancy him or something?"

Seriously, the way some of the girls, even Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, had acted around Cedric Diggory was ridiculous.

"No!" Her eyes teared up again, but she wiped them away before they could fall. Her voice wavered as she spoke, "But he was…the first wizard I'd ever had a full conversation with, you know. I mean, there was Professor Flitwick who'd shown up at our door to tell us about magic, but he did most of the talking while I just tried not to…I don't know, faint or something. And in Diagon Alley I was too in awe of everything to try to meet people, then I didn't talk to anyone on the train or the boat, and Cedric was just so kind and he – he'll never know how much of an impact he had on me. On us. Of how he meant so much to all of us. Of how much everyone in Hufflepuff really loved him; and not for his looks or anything, but because he was a really good person."

Theo listened quietly, wondering why she was telling him this. Didn't she want privacy before? He'd just insulted her again, and here she was spilling her thoughts.

"And his life was cut short at seventeen by the man who your father works for," Fairchild continued, her voice gaining a sharp edge.

 _Oh, here we go._

Theo slowly turned around again, hoping Fairchild, who was staring at her lap now, wouldn't notice him leaving. He decided that her thinking he was weak was worth to not have to listen to a tirade against his father.

"Cedric was just doing his best in the world; and that cruel, heartless man – no, monster – kills him because…for no reason at all! All because he happened to be there. He was pureblooded, and still killed."

That stopped Theo in his tracks.

 _He was pureblooded, and still killed_.

"It's all just excuses! Blood is just a stupid, ridiculous excuse for all of the killing and-and-and Cedric didn't even do anything! He happened to be with Harry. It just goes to show that it's more about power than anything else. I mean, you don't honestly think Cedric had to die? I know you don't care about people with my blood, but someone like Cedric? Who was pureblooded, never hurt anybody? Never even-never even did anything? Was never part of this whole conflict? Who dedicated so much of his time to make others happy, time that he will never get back, time that was cut short _because the monster your father works for killed him for no other reason than that he was there!"_

She was standing up now, breathing hard.

"I-" Theo was honestly at a loss. Why did every interaction with this girl become a confrontation?

"Then why are you still talking to me? If my father works for a so-called monster, you should've stopped associating with me the moment you realized the truth!"

 _I told you not to get angry Theo. But you still got angry._

 _This time it's justified, though. Seriously, if she hates me so much, she should stop talking to me. I won't bother her, she won't bother me, we'll both be happy._

Then she laughed. Actual, hysterical laughter. She clutched her stomach as she doubled over.

She seriously was crazy.

"The moment I realized…? Do you want to know when I realized the truth, Nott?" She said when she'd recovered somewhat. "Earlier than you seem to think!"

"Earlier…?"

"Remember the kitchens?"

How could he, after she'd yelled at him and then made the stupid bet?

"I realized then. It wasn't anything _you_ said, it was only because I'd had enough time to think about it to pull myself out of denial," She said, laughing again.

"And yet you still…? You should be afraid of me, Fairchild. Why the hell were you – why – you're much less intelligent than I realized. I suppose Mudbloods really _are_ dumb if you still talked to me; acted all friendly after knowing my father kills people like you!"

She flinched. "Then why haven't you killed me yet, Nott? Huh?" She was cackling madly.

This time Theo recoiled from her words.

Somehow, he had managed to completely ignore considering that thought. He knew what his father was; knew what was expected of him in the future. Yet he'd simply…blocked it out of his mind.

 _Could I kill her, if I had to?_

The simple answer was _no_.

Theo was shocked at his own realization.

No, after all his thoughts on how dumb she was and how she didn't deserve a place in this world; he could not see himself killing her.

The complicated answer was…well, he didn't know. Her blood made her less than worthy, and yet she'd somehow become _more_ over this past week. She was supposed to be worth less than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes, and yet she had become larger than life.

If it came down to it, though. _Yes._ Because it didn't matter if he couldn't bear to imagine it in his head; if it was his life versus hers, well, his was worth more, right?

 _Right?_

 _Of course._

 _Right?_

 _Shut up, brain._

Theo tried to imagine. Him, in Death Eater robes, with a Death Eater mask, pointing his wand. On the other end, Fairchild, cowering.

No, but she wouldn't be cowering, would she? She would be pointing her wand right back.

The mental image disturbed him, more than he cared to admit. He recoiled from his own imagination, disgusted that he could even come up with such an image.

He couldn't. He really couldn't.

"You want to know why I was nice to you, why I was friendly?!" She swayed on the spot, while Theo was frozen in his own thoughts.

"Because, I, unlike you, decided not to judge people on their heritage. But I suppose this time heritage won out!" Her laughing had turned into giggling. "Yeah, I was dumb. But whatever. Because you know what, Cedric probably would have done the same thing. Cedric took everyone as they were, never listened to assumptions, he was such a good person…"

Her voice had calmed down, and she fell to the ground on her knees, staring at the grass.

Theo was still staring at her, simultaneously trying to process his new realization and her weird, crazy mood swings.

"Sorry, I don't why I just went crazy. I'm just in a funny mood today," She spoke finally, not looking at him.

"Right…"

"Nott, if you don't mind, please go away. I mean that in the nicest way possible," she said quietly, decidedly not looking at him.

"Nicest…? You Hufflepuffs really are…!"

Theo turned around and stalked away in contempt. He would have better luck trying to clear his head in the library.

.

Lizzie sat, staring at the blades of grass, wishing she could be sucked into the green and never come out.

Basically, she was questioning every single life decision she'd ever made.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. But…okay, maybe it really was the stress.

But Nott had caught her at possibly the worst time.

And then, of course, stupidly, she went spilling her secrets because of some weird misguided idea that maybe he'd finally see sense.

Seriously, both of them had even admitted that they didn't want to argue, and that's exactly what they did.

Lizzie flopped backwards into the grass, feeling somewhat…relieved, actually. As she stared at the bright blue sky, she realized she hadn't really mourned Cedric properly.

They had all been sent home shortly after his death, so there was no time to process his death. Because, well, Lizzie, like Justin, didn't want her parents to know about her fellow student's death. While she did have a subscription to _The Daily Prophet_ , her parents never really showed much interest unless she brought something up.

She'd made that mistake at the end of her first year, when she'd told her parents all about Harry Potter and how he'd defeated an evil wizard for the second time. Her parents were horrified that she was in such close proximity to an evil wizard, and were even more horrified to learn of the recent war.

 _"But if this You-Know-Who somehow came back even after being killed, Elizabeth," Her mother said, "Who's to say he won't try again next year? Will he just come back again and again after being killed?"_

It had taken the whole three months of summer to convince her parents to let her go back to Hogwarts for her second year. But she'd learned her mistake. When muggle-borns started being petrified, she didn't tell her parents. While she was scared, she didn't want to leave. And after Justin was petrified, all her housemates banded together. Every muggle-born was always in the company of at least a half-blood but usually a pureblood.

 _"We have a privilege," Cedric said to everyone gathered in the common room. "We don't have to deal with the fear of being petrified or killed. But there are some people who have that fear. And we have to use this privilege that we have to help them, so that their fears never come true."_

 _Everyone clapped and whooped._

Lizzie felt like crying at that memory, but she was all out of tears. Her eyes were burning from all the crying.

She refrained from telling her parents, the summer before third year, that Sirius Black, the mass murderer who had been broadcast all over the T.V., was actually a criminal in the wizarding world. And when it came out that Professor Lupin was a werewolf, she simply mentioned to her parents that a professor had left because of health reasons (which wasn't exactly a lie).

She never lied. She simply omitted information.

For the Quidditch World Cup, she'd gone with Hannah, which was lovely, by the way. But she never told them about the Death Eaters showing up and torturing the muggles in charge of the campsite or about the Dark Mark being blasted into the sky. She just told them that Ireland won despite Bulgaria catching the Snitch (which devolved into a long-winded explanation of the game's rules) and that was that.

And when she talked about the Triwizard Tournament in her letters home, she made it seem less dangerous than it really was. She didn't mention that the only reason it was discontinued in the first place was because of all the deaths in the past, and that even after reinstating it with precautions, there were still risks. It didn't matter than she was too young to participate; if her parents knew there was a deathly tournament going on, they might have become paranoid. At least, they wouldn't view the school as suitable for her anymore.

And when Cedric died. Oh, Cedric. She'd greeted her parents at King's Cross with a smile plastered on her face and that smile stayed for three months until she got back.

She never lied. She simply omitted information.

But with all the stuff about You-Know-Who, she should probably tell them soon, because Death Eaters didn't care about the Statute of Secrecy. They just killed the muggles.

 _"Then why haven't you killed me yet, Nott?"_

 _Then why haven't you killed me yet, Nott?_

 _Why haven't you killed me yet?_

 _Why haven't you?_

 _Why?_

 _Why did Cedric have to die, when he's a pureblood?_

 _Why do muggle-borns exist? Why does magic exist?_

 _Why?_

 _Why? Why? WHY?_

Lizzie groaned and sat up. "This is why you shouldn't think, Lizzie."

But really, while none of her questions were answered, she felt…lighter, after crying over Cedric and yelling at Nott. She'd been holding in all of her emotions. She hadn't even talked with Hannah about the whole thing. They hadn't really gotten a chance to, but also especially after they realized that basically all of Hufflepuff was divided amongst those who thought Cedric was killed by the maze and those who thought Harry was telling the truth. So they just avoided that topic completely.

Honestly, it wasn't a very good coping mechanism.

Lizzie stretched. "I should probably go to the library now."

"Talking to yourself again?"

Lizzie groaned when she recognized the voice and stood up. "Seriously, Nott, I told you to go away."

He stared at her for a moment, considering. "I wouldn't kill you," he said without preamble, before walking away again, not sparing a glance towards her.

"Oh," she said in response, but he was too far to hear her.

 _Oh._

 _Okay._

 _._

Theo had stopped halfway to the library and, hating his own decisions, walked back to where Fairchild was.

Part of him hoped she'd left too, that she wouldn't be there when he went back.

But she was.

She was laying on her back, staring up at the sky, muttering to herself again.

He didn't want to come back.

But he had to. Her words kept haunting him on his walk to the library.

 _"Then why haven't you killed me yet, Nott?"_

They were fifteen. They shouldn't be thinking about death. About killing.

Theo, honestly, had never thought about it that way. The way his father always referred to it was just that they were eradicating filth; cleaning the Earth.

But Fairchild was…Fairchild wasn't the trash of the Earth. She didn't act that way. But she was, because of her blood…

Actually, sometimes, when she spoke, he could almost forget…but how could he, when she brought it up all the time?

He didn't know. Honestly, Theo had no idea what he was doing. It was a first; him not being in control.

But as he watched her sit up and stretch, muttering something to herself as usual ("I should probably go to the library now"), he knew what he had to say.

"Talking to yourself again?"

Okay, not that.

"Seriously, Nott, I told you to go away." The girl had the gall to groan as she said this, ungrateful at him bothering to make the trek back just to tell her four words. Regardless, she stood up, waiting for him to say his piece.

Theo thought for a moment. How should he say it?

"I wouldn't kill you," he finally blurted, before turning around and walking in the opposite direction. He'd figured that straight to the point was the way to go, otherwise he'd lose his nerve. Besides, _she_ was always straight to the point anyway.

Halfway to the library though, he again stopped. Hadn't Fairchild mentioned going to the library?

Oh, well, whatever, he wouldn't try to avoid her. If she wanted to find him, she probably could wherever he was.

His own words rang in his head as he pulled out his work at his usual back table in the library.

 _"I wouldn't kill you."_

He spied a mass of blonde hair at another table, and realized the depth of the words; how true they really were.

 _"I wouldn't kill you."_

 _I wouldn't kill you._

 _I wouldn't._

 _I would?_

 _No, I wouldn't._

* * *

 **Yeah...I kinda made Lizzie a little crazy in this chapter. Whoops :P**

 **Then again, my original idea for this story was a lot simpler, there wasn't supposed to be much substance besides "Death Eater's kid falls for Muggle-born ooh drama" and then this whole thing happened I don't know how. I guess I just became so focused on the characters themselves rather than just how they interact, if that makes sense.**

 **Anyways, please follow and leave a review if you feel like it!**

 **~Saturn10710~**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So, I really don't have any good reason for why I was gone for so long. It was a mixture of schoolwork and finals and lack of inspiration for this story - I had this chapter done for a long time but I wasn't motivated enough to edit it and I ended up working on other stories that I haven't posted yet and...well, my brain tends to jump between projects a lot.**

 **Well, I graduated on Friday so I'm finally done with school! At least until college starts...sigh...**

 **But I have more time now and I'm forcing myself to focus at least a little bit more on both this story and Fallen Snake.**

 **Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, favorited, and/or followed!**

 **Disclaimer: HP is obviously not mine, and if I were to claim Lizzie as my own, she would beat me on the head with a hammer because she insists she is her own person. :D**

* * *

Chapter 8-

 _"He was pureblooded, and still killed."_

Theo groaned as he turned over in bed, wishing her words would just go away already.

 _"He was pureblooded, and still killed."_

 _"Then why haven't you killed me yet, Nott?"_

 _"I wouldn't kill you."_

Theo pressed his face into his pillow, wanting it to somehow block his thoughts. Soak them up, prevent them from invading his brain even further.

 _He was pureblooded, and still killed._

 _Pureblooded, and still killed._

 _Pureblooded._

 _Killed._

Of course, his pillow wasn't doing a very good job at stopping the invasion.

Theo remembered his father's words. Once, when he was much younger and had only just learned exactly what the Death Eaters did. He had asked, curious and a bit appalled, _"So you've killed people?"_

 _"It is not killing people, Theodore. Would you consider getting rid of rats and other pests as killing people? No, it's just extermination. Muggles and Mudbloods are rats. They are vermin that have multiplied and grown too powerful, and they have already started infecting the wizarding world. It is good for the world to get rid of them, just as it is good for our home to exterminate our own pests."_

 _"I understand, Father."_

 _"Even if you do not, you will understand when you're older. When you go to Hogwarts and see just how many have infected our world. We have to take the wizarding world back. Unfortunately, with the Dark Lord gone, we have lost our leader, but that does not mean we have given up."_

 _"Yes, Father."_

And he did understand. He thought he did, at least, when he had started school. Muggles and Mudbloods weren't _people_ , so it really wasn't killing, right?

He sometimes had a hard time wrapping his around that, but he did his best. Whenever he started to doubt, whenever he saw Hermione Granger perform spell after spell perfectly in each class, yet saw purebloods like Crabbe and Goyle barely managing to pass, he'd repeat the words over and over again until he believed them, because if Theo didn't believe his father's words, that showed a problem within Theo.

But Fairchild was a _person_ , a bright, lively, _person_. Right?

No, no, he couldn't think that way. No matter how vibrant and lively Fairchild acted, she was still just a Mudblood masquerading as a witch. Right?

But Cedric Diggory wasn't a Mudblood or a muggle. He wasn't _vermin_. Sure, he might have been somewhat of a muggle-lover, but as Fairchild had said, what exactly did he _do_?

 _Pureblooded, and still killed. Diggory was a pureblood. He was a pureblood._

 _And yet he still died._

 _But he was a blood traitor, right?_

 _But did that make him vermin? Because he didn't see muggles and Mudbloods as vermin, did that mean he was one of them?_

 _"It's more about power than anything else."_

Of course it was power. Because purebloods deserved the world, yet muggles and Mudbloods were invading, trying to take over, while blood-traitors happily helped them do so.

But Fairchild had made it seem like a selfish pursuit. It wasn't, though. His father risked his own life countless times only for the good of the world, right? For Theo and others to have a good future, devoid of pests, devoid of infections.

No, no, he just-just wouldn't think about it. Just forget about her. Forget about her crying and her words and her stupid book that was still sitting at the bottom of his school bag. He hadn't picked it up since Fairchild had asked if he thought Potter was lying. He hadn't bothered with it since, yet he still hadn't returned it yet.

 _I should give it back._

But he couldn't, for some reason. He wanted to prove he could finish it; that he could understand it.

At least today was Sunday; a good day. A new, fresh day.

The next few weeks passed without incident, as Theo barely saw Fairchild and he mostly forgot about her (or, at least, he tried to). She hadn't approached him at all since that day, and he was definitely not disappointed.

Definitely.

Meanwhile, Theo had finally finished that book. And…he was surprised to find to find that…it was _interesting._ It was _good_. It was confusing.

He didn't understand the half of it. Muggle sciences were apparently much different from wizard sciences.

Whatever, though. It didn't prove anything. If anything, it only proved how much their worlds were separate; how much people like her didn't belong in his world, in the wizarding world. Yet they still insisted on pushing their way in. And the purebloods that helped them were just as stupid. They were traitors to their own kind.

But did that warrant killing them?

Some time ago, he would've said yes, without hesitance.

Now, however, he didn't know.

September leaked into October, and he had to return the book, though, and when he had finally uncharmed the cover and went to the library, Madam Pince gave him a warning to return stuff on time with a stern look.

He simply nodded and went on his way to his usual table.

It seemed that the silence Fairchild had been keeping wasn't to last, though, because as soon as he sat down, he heard a throat clearing and looked up to find her smiling down at him, no evidence of any animosity on her face.

She sat down across from him, still smiling. "So I saw you return the book to Pince. I take it you read it?"

 _I need to be more careful_.

But he decided to be honest, and told her truthfully, "Yes."

"And what did you think?" She couldn't even hide the eagerness on her face.

Theo rolled his eyes. "Horrible."

Her smile dropped, before she raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Really? Or are you just saying that because of your pride?"

Theo rolled his eyes and deigned not to reply to that.

.

Lizzie frowned again. She'd finally picked up the courage to talk to Nott again. She was too embarrassed before because of the way she'd acted, and while she wasn't exactly _avoiding_ him, she didn't seek him out either.

Well, okay, maybe she should've at least _greeted_ him, but she was too excited at the prospect of him actually _reading_ the book and maybe liking it and she forgot how to socialize for a second.

Well, she figured she was right, in any case. He ignored her; didn't even bother to respond. That must've meant he was avoiding the question, right? That he didn't want to admit he maybe actually liked it or something written by muggles could actually be _good_.

Whatever. Why was she even talking to him anyway? He had made himself clear before; and now that he had finished his side of the bet, there really wasn't anything else to connect them.

"Well, bye!" Lizzie said finally, forcing her smile to stay plastered on her face. She stood and waved as she walked away.

Maybe it was just her hope speaking, but she could've sworn she heard Nott saying "Goodbye," back.

.

Theo hoped that meant that she wouldn't talk to him again. That this was her last goodbye, or something. That she wouldn't approach him again.

 _But do you really want that?_

 _Shut up, brain._

Theo distracted himself by thinking of all the books he would get to buy at the first Hogsmeade weekend, which was announced to be on the first Saturday of October, which was this week.

Right, he needed new books. And not muggle ones.

* * *

It was a nice Wednesday morning, and Lizzie was eating breakfast with Hannah and Ernie, when Hermione Granger approached them.

"Hi Hermione!" Hannah said brightly while Ernie greeted her politely when they saw her, "Good morning, Hermione."

"Hello Hannah, Ernie. And, er, it's Lizzie, right?" Granger asked.

Lizzie grinned. "Yep! Hello!"

"Well, you see, Harry and I – well – er, I mean, I had this idea and I was wondering if you'd be willing to meet in Hogsmeade this weekend and, well…"

"Why don't you sit down?" Ernie suggested, sliding over to make room for her, while Lizzie and Hannah exchanged looks.

What was so important that they had to meet in Hogsmeade for it? Was it something they couldn't talk about in school?

The idea was laughable. This was _Hermione Granger_ , after all. Then again, she was best friends with Harry Potter, the biggest rule-breaker in the school. Well, besides the Weasley twins. No one could beat the Weasley twins.

Hermione took a deep breath, before starting again, seeming to be more comfortable sitting down. "So I'm sure you all agree that Umbridge is, well, not exactly teaching us anything?"

"Oh, definitely," Lizzie said, and Hannah laughed. "Obviously. Lizzie here got two nights of detention for it!"

"I heard, yes," Hermione said, smiling. "So I talked to Harry, because, well, honestly he's had the most practical experience out of all of us, hasn't he? I mean, he's very advanced in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Ron and I feel that we could honestly learn a lot from him and just, well, how to act in those situations because none of us really _know_ anything."

"What are you planning, then?" Ernie asked, intrigued.

"Well, for now we just figured we could see if people were maybe interested in learning from him. I mean, I think – no, I _know_ – he can be much better than Umbridge. So, are you interested?"

"Interested in what?"

They all looked to the interrupter and Lizzie inwardly groaned.

 _Not Zacharias Smith_.

Ernie looked at Hermione, as if for permission, before she nodded hesitantly, biting her lip, and he turned back to Zacharias.

"Well, Hermione wanted to know if we could meet in Hogsmeade this weekend, and, well-" He broke off and glanced at her questioningly. "How many others are you inviting?"

"Well, it depends on how many are interested, but most of the Gryffindors in our year and some in other years, plus Michael Corner and his friends, and Parvati Patil said she'd bring her sister and that Cho Chang might come too, and then hopefully you guys too."

"Of course we'll come!" Hannah assured her. "This is actually really great, what you're doing. Isn't it?" She glanced at Lizzie and Ernie for confirmation, who nodded enthusiastically.

"I still have no idea what you're on about," Zacharias reminded them.

"It's about Umbridge," Lizzie explained. "Gra-er, Hermione said that Harry could teach us, like, actual Defense because he's had real world experiences with that and none of us have-"

"Harry Potter?" Zacharias cut in eagerly. "Yes, I'll come."

Hermione clapped her hands together. "Great! So I'll see you on Saturday at the Hog's Head – for a bit of privacy – at noon, and it shouldn't take too long, so afterwards you all can go on with your day. And feel free to bring anyone else – just, make sure not to spread it around."

"Of course," Lizzie said. "We wouldn't want Umbridge finding out," She said with a look to Zacharias, who looked away.

Hermione smiled. "So I'll see you Saturday," She said, standing up and walking back to the Gryffindor table.

"It'll be quite interesting, won't it?" Zacharias said, "To hear what Harry Potter has to say."

 _Oh. That's why._

"Zacharias, seriously? This is about more than Harry. This is, like, actually learning Defense," Lizzie told him.

"And?" Zacharias shrugged. "Obviously I want to learn Defense too, but we finally get to hear about what happened to Potter that night in the forest with Cedric Diggory and-"

"And what?" Lizzie snapped. "If he doesn't tell you, are you not going to learn Defense with us? Is that it?"

"Why are you so insistent on defending him?" Zacharias crossed his arms. "Don't you want to hear too?"

"Zacharias, Lizzie, stop arguing," Ernie said sternly. "And Zach, Lizzie is right; this is about learning Defense Against the Dark Arts, not prying into something Harry might not want to talk about."

"Oh, right, I forgot," Zacharias sneered. "You two believe him, don't you? Believe all the stuff about You-Know-Who killing Diggory? Can you fault me for wanting to know the truth? For wanting to hear it from his mouth directly?"

"I get what you're saying," Lizzie conceded, "But if he doesn't want to tell you, you can't expect nor force him to."

Zacharias rolled his eyes. "Hannah, don't tell me you believe Potter too?"

Hannah dropped her spoon into her cereal, startled. She hesitated for a few seconds before answering. "Er…Yes. Yes, I do. And Lizzie and Ernie are right about the whole prying thing, so just drop it, Zach."

Lizzie glanced at Ernie, who looked just as shocked as she felt.

"Hannah, really?" Lizzie said, amazed. "You don't think we're crazy anymore?"

Hannah looked down. "Yes, okay?" She said defensively. "Just…don't ask, okay? I just…for the past few weeks…I've been thinking a lot. So…"

"Whatever," Zacharias said as he stood up and walked away.

"He's sooo annoying," Lizzie groaned, "Honestly. Why did he have to overhear what we were saying? He doesn't even want to come for the right reason."

Hannah giggled. "But he won't tell anyone. He's not that low."

"That's true," Lizzie acknowledged.

"I'm glad, Hannah," Ernie said, grinning, "That you believe us now."

"Me too," Lizzie added, smiling.

Hannah smiled back.

Maybe all Hannah needed was time. For the past few weeks, they hadn't talked about You-Know-Who; they spent most of their time working on homework or talking about lighter topics.

"Well, I think Justin and Susan would want to come too," Ernie said, taking the attention off of Hannah, which Hannah sent him a grateful smile for.

They did, as it turned out. When Lizzie, Ernie, and Hannah told the other two in the common room later, Susan, uncharacteristically, jumped up and down saying "Finally, finally," and Justin immediately agreed it was a good idea, even if "Harry might be a little crazy."

"He's not crazy, Justin," Lizzie insisted, shoving a cushion from the couch onto his face. "He's actually quite brave, considering that he's continued to tell the truth even when the world says he's crazy."

"It takes a lot of strength to remain firm in one's convictions," Ernie added, echoing the words Hannah had said long before, "even when it only brings ridicule and hate."

Justin held up his hands in surrender, "Alright, alright, I get it! But anyway, this Defense thing should be good anyway. I'm still going to the Defense thing no matter what."

"Justin," Lizzie started. "Remember when you were petrified? Wasn't it Harry who saved the school from the monster? If it weren't for him, the school might have been shut down."

"I'm not saying I don't respect or admire him for what he did," Justin said defensively. "I'm grateful, really. I just…I don't know."

"And," Hannah added, "Not to mention we all suspected him of being the Heir of Slytherin and look how wrong we were. Is it impossible to think that we might be wrong this time too? Of course the idea of it seems so silly now," Hannah said sheepishly, "but back then he was shunned because of it, and now he's being shunned again because he insists on telling people the truth."

"Wait, _you_ think he's telling the truth?" Justin asked, eyes wide. He looked at Susan, Lizzie, Hannah, Ernie, from each of their faces to the warm fire in front of them. "All of you…" He stared at his lap. "You probably think _I'm_ crazy…" He said in a disheartened tone.

"No we don't," Susan reassured him, at the same time that Lizzie said "Yeah, a little bit." Susan shot her a glare and Lizzie shut up.

"Justin," Susan started, "We don't think you're crazy. Just…is the idea of You-Know-Who being back really that ridiculous? So much so that you won't even consider it?"

Justin inhaled deeply, thinking. "I never said I didn't consider it. But maybe if I could hear Harry's side of the story, I might want to believe him more. I just…if You-Know-Who is back, do you know what happens to me? To my family? My parents almost didn't let me come back third year after I was petrified. They were determined to transfer me to Eton. I actually sent a letter to Dumbledore as a last resort and he sent one back to my parents promising that he would do his best to keep everyone safe from now on; that the danger had passed. Only then did they let me come back."

Hannah, Ernie, and Susan sat in stunned silence, having never heard this story. Lizzie, however, was unsurprised. While she never knew about Justin sending a letter to Dumbledore, she knew what it was like coming from a muggle family; knew what it was like to have a family that didn't necessarily understand the wizarding world.

"And if You-Know-Who is back, that means that my life is in danger again," Justin continued. "And my family's lives too. I don't want to jump to conclusions, to just believe what I've heard. I want to hear Harry's side; I want to know the truth coming from his own mouth, because everyone keeps saying different things and I want to see for myself if he's lying or he really believes it."

That reminded Lizzie of what Zacharias had said earlier, about wanting to hear from Harry himself. She supposed she couldn't fault them for wanting to hear what Harry wanted to say, but at the same time, if Harry didn't want to tell the whole story, they shouldn't expect him to. Wasn't it enough that Harry maintained You-Know-Who was back, that Harry brought back Cedric's body and offered his sincerest condolences to his parents? Wasn't it enough that despite all of the ridicule he had been receiving since the start of the year, Harry was still offering to teach them defense?

At least Justin was different than Zacharias, in that he was genuinely interested in learning Defense Against the Dark Arts, and wanting to hear from Harry was simply secondary.

"I get what you're saying," Lizzie said finally, chewing her lip. "I made the mistake of telling my parents after first year about Harry defeating You-Know-Who and they almost kept me from Hogwarts too. I never tell them anything about how some people are prejudiced against muggle-borns, I never told them about Cedric, I never told them about Sirius Black, or about the basilisk…nothing. Because I know if I did, I might never be able to come back.

"And it's not like the muggle world is necessarily safer. I mean, just a few years ago one of my neighbor's kids went missing and she was found a few days later, dead. They never found out who did it," Lizzie took a deep breath, realizing this was the first time she'd spoken about this. She rarely talked about her life at home. "But the difference is that the horrors of the muggle world are things my parents are familiar with. But when it comes to dangers in the wizarding world, where my parents wouldn't be able to protect me, where they wouldn't know _how_ to protect me, where they can't just lock the doors and turn on the alarms, where they wouldn't be able to really know anything about while I'm away for nine months at a time…if they realized the wizarding world is actually sometimes _more_ dangerous than the wizarding world, if they thought I might actually be safer at home, they would keep me home.

"I was in denial too, Justin," Lizzie said, turning to him. "But it would honestly be better to acknowledge the possibility now rather than waiting for the proof right in front of your eyes, because by then, it might be too late for you and your family. Wouldn't you rather believe in something impossible and prepare your family for the possibility of being attacked, rather than thinking it's a lie and then not being prepared for You-Know-Who's return, and then it turns out to be true?"

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments, before Justin stood up abruptly.

"I…I'm going to bed, guys. Night," He said after a few moments, before hurriedly walking to his dorm.

The four exchanged looks.

"Lizzie," Hannah said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Why did you never tell me? About not being allowed to come back, hiding things from your parents…I tell my parents everything! Okay, not everything, but…"

"Hannah…" Lizzie started. Hannah looked hurt. "I wasn't trying to keep things from you. It's just, I mean, it didn't really matter, once I was back at Hogwarts. And it's not like I never talk about Hogwarts; I tell them about you guys and about my classes and Quidditch and, well, just not the really important stuff, I guess."

"I guess we don't understand because we've never…I mean, our parents basically hear everything from _The Daily Prophet_ and rumours and things, so it's pretty much impossible trying to hide those sorts of things," Susan said. "And everyone knows that Hogwarts is the safest place; if Hogwarts isn't safe then that means nowhere is. And our parents know that. So they wouldn't pull us out except in extreme circumstances."

"Not to mention," Ernie added, "My family isn't directly a target of You-Know-Who. I mean, some of my family members fought in the war, but we sort of escape the attention that people like the Weasleys tend to get. So I guess…I've never had that fear for my life or wellbeing that you guys do."

Susan bit her lip. "My family is different. I mean, Mum doesn't know what to believe but I know Dad believes it; he just never said anything. But they don't want to believe You-Know-Who is back because my aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents were all killed by Death Eaters in the war. The only ones who survived were my parents and my Auntie Amelia. So our family probably will be targets if another war breaks out. But you're right, Ernie. I never had to fear being killed by the monster in second year, or experienced being discriminated against by purebloods as much as Lizzie and Justin did."

"But the difference is that all your parents know, they understand the origins of the conflict and know that Hogwarts is normally a safe school," Lizzie said. "They went to the same school; they know the horrors of the war but they also know that Hogwarts was and is the safest place in that situation. My parents, after hearing about my first year, assumed that Hogwarts was like that all the time. They didn't even know why You-Know-Who started the war, but they thought I would be safer at home, because they didn't realize that You-Know-Who actually effects the muggle world as well as the wizarding one. But I know I'll have to tell them soon; because like Susan said, if another war breaks out, my blood makes me and my family targets."

"Targets of who?"

 _Ugh. Why, Zacharias? I have trouble believing you were just overhearing instead of purposely eavesdropping. Honestly._

"Targets of You-Know-Who," Lizzie said simply, turning around with a shrug. "Why?"

"No reason," Zacharias snorted. "You're all deluded; I hope you realize that."

Lizzie turned around on the couch to face him directly. "Well it beats being an ignorant fool, for sure."

Hannah laughed and Ernie let out a small chuckle at this, while Zacharias lifted his chin and walked away.

"I hope he doesn't say anything…well, you know, _Zacharias-_ like on Saturday," Lizzie commented. "Can you imagine?"

Ernie gave her a fleeting smile, "He probably will, knowing him. I can talk to him, though."

"And turn him even more against you?" Hannah interjected. "No, it's fine, Ernie."

"Alright, then," Ernie said. "Goodnight, Hannah, Lizzie."

"Goodnight," they both chimed as they went up to their own dorm, Lizzie wondering at how things really were changing this year. The events of the previous years seemed minor; this year Lizzie and Hannah and Ernie and all of them were actually becoming involved with the sorts of things that were usually confined to Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley.

That generally meant nothing good, as the three had gotten into much trouble since their first year, but now, Lizzie didn't really care. You-Know-Who was back, the Ministry was being incompetent, and she needed to learn how to defend herself because some people believed she didn't deserve to live merely because of her blood.

It was laughable to remember the naivety and wonder of her first year; when she'd heard the word "magic" she thought of princes and princesses and dragons and _Lord of the Rings_ , with adventures and fun along with evil witches over boiling cauldrons…

But the real thing didn't compare, could never compare. Real life was not a fantasy.

Living in the wizarding world, she had long since realized, was just like living in the muggle world. There were good people (Dumbledore) and bad people (You-Know-Who) and complicated people (Theodore Nott) and corrupted politicians (Cornelius Fudge) and mean teachers (Umbridge or Snape, she couldn't decide who was worse) and nice teachers (Sprout, for sure) and good friends (Hannah) and annoying people (Zacharias Smith).

With the current situation, with You-Know-Who's return, Lizzie might actually be safer hiding in the muggle world. She realized with a jolt; that she could simply escape, tell her family and they could even leave the country if they thought they were in that much danger…

But…she could never give up magic.

 _Even for your family, Lizzie? Even then?_

 _I can't_ , Lizzie thought, _Magic has become such an integral part of me; it would be like asking me to give up a hand._

But pureblood supremacists didn't realize that, did they? She'd heard it all (mainly from Draco Malfoy): Mudbloods were unworthy, Mudbloods were stealing magic and wizards' jobs…

But heritage didn't control who you were now. Her parents being muggles had no bearing on Lizzie being a witch. She was simply a witch, and no matter what anyone said to her, she could not believe that she didn't deserve something that was a part of her; that it was "unnatural" or "stolen." She didn't think she owed the wizarding world for "taking her in," as if she was a burden on society, as if it was some huge sacrifice to allow her to learn magic and become part of the wizarding world. Yet she couldn't help sometimes feeling the divide between her and the others. Ernie, while never meaning to be prejudiced, still sometimes would say things that made Lizzie realize just how much she came from a different world.

She didn't want to think of it like that, though.

She was simply doing what any other witch did; go to Hogwarts, learn magic, make friends, hopefully pass her O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s later on, and get a job.

A job.

She hadn't really thought about it before, because she didn't want to consider it.

 _Will I get a job in the wizarding world or the muggle one?_

Her parents had actually saved up a lot for her; it was meant for college. If she decided to go, that was.

When she was a child her life path had seemed so much clearer; get through school alright and hopefully get into a good university and then a good job. Just like both her parents had. Like most of her family; her aunts and uncles and cousins and everyone who thought it strange that she was going to some boarding school in Scotland that they'd never heard of, because she couldn't very well tell them about magic, could she?

She had an older sister who was attending university, now. Marianne. They hadn't talked in ages. Now that Lizzie thought about it, she hadn't sent her very many letters. They used to be close, but ever since Lizzie had that fateful visit from Professor Flitwick revealing she was a witch, they just hadn't been able to talk normally. It was as if they were on different wavelengths, almost.

Even at family gatherings during the holidays, she could never seem to really connect the same way with her relatives. She had to be careful what to say, because she couldn't let anyone who wasn't direct family know about magic. And she was missing things in the muggle world, because she was gone for nine months out of the year. She would miss all the new inventions and discoveries muggles were making; she would miss developments in her own family, things like how Uncle Charlie had run off for the _third time_ with a woman whom he had proclaimed was "the one," before returning three months later alone. She missed the birth of her cousins; the youngest was only born last September and she had only seen him in June when she got back (she hadn't gotten the chance to see him over Christmas, as she'd stayed at Hogwarts last year). Of course, she would hear about these things from letters, but it wasn't the same.

Lizzie was just glad her relatives didn't think she was dumb; her parents made her take summer classes because they wanted her to keep up with muggle subjects. At first, she hated it, because summer break was supposed to be free of learning, but now she appreciated how much her parents cared for her education; they knew she had to have a magical education at Hogwarts but they didn't want to take away from having a thorough muggle education. She knew that part of it was a hope that she would choose the muggle world over the magical one, out of a belief that she would only disappear into the wizarding world for seven years and then come back.

Yet, she was still thankful, because they only hoped for it out of good intentions, and she didn't blame her parents for wanting to keep her close, for not wanting to lose her to a world they could barely comprehend.

And that meant that, well, for one, if one of her cousins needed help with homework, she wasn't left utterly clueless, because as much as she loved Hogwarts, they didn't exactly teach, say, maths or science. Not muggle science, anyway, because she supposed Potions could count as a science.

And it also meant that she had all her options open. Lizzie, if she wanted to, could very well pursue a career in the muggle world without resorting to faking diplomas or degrees or qualifications or anything that she'd heard other wizards and witches had done.

When Lizzie still didn't know anything about magic, her favorite school subject was science. She loved it. She was glad when she found out Astronomy was a subject taught at Hogwarts, because it was the one subject that didn't veer too much from what she knew. Of course, the subject was taught with a magical point of view, but Lizzie hadn't felt completely clueless in her first lesson as she had with all the other subjects.

And she still loved muggle sciences. Especially Chemistry. When Theodore Nott had pulled that book off the shelf she was happy; happy because maybe if he read it and actually liked it she could talk to him about it. It was something she couldn't really do with any others, since most other muggle-borns no longer bothered with muggle subjects, like Justin. Sure, he tried his best to keep up, but he didn't take classes or anything and he really only cared about history.

She was toeing the line between two worlds, Lizzie realized, not belonging in either one. She was too muggle to be a witch, but too magical to be a muggle.

* * *

The Hog's Head was a small, dingy pub on a side road that led away from the main part of Hogsmeade. Lizzie had never been inside, and was willing to bet that most of the group that had gathered were also there for the first time.

The meeting went well enough, Lizzie supposed. Predictably, Zacharias kept being annoying and raising questions, but then Susan asked Harry if it was "True that you can produce a Patronus?" Then everyone started talking about how much he had accomplished, how much more experienced he was at Defense than the rest of them, and though Zacharias had kept raising questions, at the end he still signed the parchment that indicated he would be part of the group in the long run.

Lizzie had been one of the first to sign it; while she understood it might be dangerous if Umbridge ever found the list, she trusted Hermione would keep it somewhere safe. Besides, Lizzie was on her bad side anyways, and she could deal with a few more detentions if it meant that the cause was because she was actually doing something. Something besides speculating.

And, of course, after the meeting ended, Lizzie felt that Harry had succeeded in convincing people of You-Know-Who's return. At least, even Justin had to admit that "Maybe Harry is right."

And it also proved some of Lizzie's suspicions, and confirmed what Susan had told them all earlier; that Cornelius Fudge was under the impression Dumbledore was building an army.

All in all, a good day.

* * *

Theo sat on his bed and pulled out his sketchbook; it was one of the few rare moments of privacy that he'd been craving for a while now. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all at Quidditch practice, and Blaise Zabini went out to watch.

Normally Theo would be dragged along with them, but he'd refused to come along this time. It wasn't that he didn't like Quidditch; no, he enjoyed watching it.

But he really needed some time alone once in a while. He could've gone to Hogsmeade, sure, but he didn't much care for heading out at the moment. He did want to be alone, after all, and other people would only bother him.

He liked to draw. It was something he kept from the others, because there would be no end to the insults if they did know. They were too nosy for their own good, honestly.

He sketched her, his mother. Or what he remembered of her, anyway.

Red hair. Not flaming like the Weasleys, but dark and elegant.

Pale skin; the one thing he had in common with her.

A smattering of freckles, spread over her nose and cheeks.

He wasn't exactly sure about the last feature, though, as his father had locked away any and all pictures.

But in some of Theo's earliest memories, if he strained his brain, he could hazily remember sitting on a large bed, while his mother sat by the vanity as she patted powder onto her face, absentmindedly rubbing the bump on her stomach. She would glance over at him once in a while with a fleeting smile, and Theo felt that he could remember seeing the dots on her cheeks that she tried to cover up.

And he always drew her with freckles, even in his earliest drawing he could find; a stained parchment with the scrawl of a four-year old.

Theo drew her as he remembered; not as a fully-formed person but hazes of colors and lines here and there, parts that he remembered or perhaps they were only his imagination and he'd turned them into memories, but he sketched.

He remembered always thinking her face was strong, so he drew a sharp jawline. He distantly remembered watching her perfect her cold smile in the mirror, so he added it, the cunning, charming smile, to his drawing.

He remembered how she smelled, too. Perhaps that was the one thing he remembered the most. It was strong and sweet and maybe it was more the smell of the perfume she wore but either way he couldn't draw it in.

So instead he drew clouds around her; smoky, hazy clouds to match the heavy use of the perfume, to match the haziness of her form itself.

And that was it. A hazy body swimming in haziness, formed half from imagination and half from the unreliable memories of a six-year-old boy.

For she died when Theo was six. Died, leaving a husband who would forever wallow in grief, a tiny, screaming, pink-faced baby girl who would never know the meaning of the word "mother," and a scrawny boy who would forever wonder who she could've been now had she lived.

* * *

 **Okay yeah, not so much interaction between Theo and Lizzie in this chapter, but I wanted to explore their backgrounds a bit more. I hope you guys still liked it and the next chapter will probably not take more than a month haha...ha...**

 **Just kidding! It will be up within the next few days!**

 **I think I've just come to accept that I cannot have a normal posting schedule, no matter how much I try. So yeah, updates will be random. But hopefully not after a long time.**

 **I'm happy that you all (or most, I hope) seem to like that I'm taking the story slow and trying to just show how Lizzie and Theo are establishing themselves in this world and how they will find themselves before rushing into any kind of romance. I know a lot of people like to write stories where characters rush into romance, and I do love reading those stories too sometimes, but that's not the kind of story that In Between Two Worlds is, and I hope no one is disappointed by that.**

 **~Saturn10710~**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So...I guess the "next few days" ended up becoming more than a week...oops...sorry...**

 **Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, followed, and favorited!**

 **Disclaimer: Only Lizzie is mine.**

 ***Lizzie hits me with a hammer***

 **Ahem, sorry, I mean NOTHING is mine.**

* * *

Chapter 9-

"Lizzie, wake up!"

Lizzie groaned as she sat up, throwing her pillow at Hannah.

Hannah caught it and smirked, before frowning. "They've just posted a notice downstairs," Hannah said glumly.

"What about?" Lizzie asked, forcing herself out of bed.

"New educational decree: all clubs have been disbanded and you have to get permission from Umbridge to start one," Hannah explained.

"What?" Lizzie said incredulously. "That's ridiculous!"

Susan, who had just left the bathroom, spoke up. "You don't think she knows, do you?" Susan lowered her voice. "About Saturday?"

She was referring to the new defense group with Harry. They had met in the Hog's Head and Lizzie decided she would never walk into that pub again as long as she lived.

"I don't know," Lizzie answered, chewing on her lip. "It doesn't necessarily mean, but maybe…someone could have said something, or one of those other customers in the Hog's Head could have told…"

"I hope not," Hannah said. "But we won't back down," she added determinedly.

At breakfast Ernie and Hannah decided to go over and ask Harry if they were still going to go ahead with the defense group, but Hermione gestured furiously for them to go back.

Ernie slumped in his seat. "I hope this doesn't mean we're giving up the defense group," He said. "I was so excited for it."

"Probably not," Lizzie assured him. "They probably just don't want to make it suspicious."

"Yeah," Justin added. "We can ask later."

Then Zacharias sat down across from them, shoulders slumped as well.

"What's wrong?" Ernie asked. Zacharias usually sat with the others in their year, Wayne Hopkins and Kevin Entwhistle, or with the other members of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

"The Quidditch teams are included in the new decree," he said miserably. "We're going to have to ask Umbridge for permission to restart it," He groaned, burying his head in his arms.

"How could she do that?!" Hannah shrieked. "I hate that woman!"

Susan muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Bloody toad," which showed just how awful Umbridge was, considering how Susan rarely held grudges.

"I never thought I could feel hate so strongly," Lizzie said. Between not teaching them actual defense, trying to take over the school, using torture quills for detention, and now this, Lizzie could hardly believe that such a horrid person existed. "Honestly, how does all of that unpleasantness fit into one short woman? I would've thought she'd explode by now."

They all laughed; even Zacharias had to crack a smile at that, but it was short-lived.

"I'm sure she'll let us restart the Quidditch team," said Ernie reassuringly. "There's no reason not to allow us to play a sport."

"I do hope you're right," Zacharias said. "But what about-about Harry Potter's thing?"

Lizzie, Hannah, Ernie, Susan, and Justin all shushed him very loudly, attracting the attention of the people around them.

Zacharias rolled his eyes, but lowered his voice anyway. "Okay, okay, I get it. But do you know if we're still doing it?"

"I don't know," Lizzie said quietly. "Umbridge obviously won't give us permission for something like that."

"Their group isn't exactly made of rule followers, though," Susan remarked, glancing over to the Gryffindor table, where Harry sat with Hermione and Ron Weasley and a few others.

"We would still have to be careful, though," Ernie said, leaning forward with his hands folded on the table. "I know I said back in the Hog's Head that this is more important than O.W.L.s, and it is, but I'm not sure getting expelled would be worth it."

"But we'd be learning how to defend ourselves," Lizzie argued, "Isn't that better in the grand scheme of things. I mean, our lives are more important than school, right?"

"I didn't say I wouldn't take part in it," Ernie said, alarmed. "Just that we will have to be careful."

"Right, sorry," Lizzie said, blushing. "I overreact a lot."

"It's alright," Ernie said with a smile. "I know you didn't mean anything."

"Still," Lizzie insisted. She really did overreact a lot, to the smallest of things.

"We're not going to be killed," Zacharias scoffed. "From the way you're talking, you'd think You-Know-Who was standing behind you. Mind you, I'd be surprised if he was alive after all."

"If you don't think our lives are in danger, then why did you join the group anyway?" Lizzie snapped.

Zacharias shrugged. "Why not? I want to see how much Potter can actually teach us. If it's all just talk…"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Why do you doubt him so much?" Hannah jabbed her in the arm with her elbow harshly and Lizzie sent her a glare.

"Why do you not?" He shot back.

"Lizzie, Zach, class is going to start soon," Ernie reminded them sharply. "Come on."

* * *

"Why did you do that?" Lizzie, rubbing her arm, hissed to Hannah as soon as they neared the Charms classroom, where Zacharias left their group to sit with Wayne and Kevin.

Professor Flitiwck started the lesson, while Lizzie kept giving pointed glares to Hannah, who huffed.

"Because," Hannah replied, "You were overreacting again."

"But he was the one being unreasonable!" Lizzie defended. She glanced over to the other side of the classroom, noticing that most of the Slytherins were successfully performing the charm while only half of the Hufflepuffs, not including Lizzie, were casting properly, causing her to feel a brief flash of irritation. The Hufflepuffs were sure to hear more jeers by their classmates about their "lack of intellect" by the time the class ended.

"Then you know he wouldn't listen to you anyway!" Hannah said. "You apologized to Ernie for snapping at him, why didn't you apologize to Zacharias? You don't have to always start arguments. Sometimes it's better to just let it be."

"Because…because…" Lizzie hid her face in her hands, knowing Hannah was right. "Okay, sorry, alright?"

As much as Zacharias was unlikable, he had a right to express his own doubts, right? Still, he didn't have to be so rude about it. Even when Hannah was still disbelieving of Harry's story, she wasn't mean about it.

Even when, as Lizzie shamefully remembered, Lizzie herself had blown up at her, Hannah argued back but didn't scoff at Lizzie and Ernie and Susan. And neither did Justin.

They were respectful about it. Zacharias was not.

But to be fair, Lizzie conceded she probably shouldn't have become confrontational towards him. As Hannah said, it really didn't do anything besides make him argue back, and then they would've had a shouting match in the middle of the Great Hall if Ernie hadn't stopped them.

"I do have a tendency to start arguments, don't I?" Lizzie said with a wry smile, letting her arms swing loosely beside her.

"You always have," Hannah informed her. "But this year I think that tendency is just rearing its head a bit more. Probably the stress."

"I'm sorry," Lizzie said sincerely. "I'll try to be less…confrontational."

Hannah smiled. "I think being confrontational is a great trait…when used in the right situations."

Lizzie grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Theo sat in the library after dinner, as was his habit. He preferred the calm library to the atmosphere of the Slytherin common room; people were always trying to observe each other's actions and words, plotting against each other, or, in Malfoy's case, lording their "superiority" over everyone else.

Besides, Malfoy was much too nosy for his own good and Theo had just remembered that he hadn't written to his sister since two weeks ago.

He was a horrible brother, really.

She was ten, though, and though she was smart for her age, sometimes it really was just hard to connect to someone so much younger.

Besides, he always had to be careful, because he knew that recently his father had taken to the habit of taking Theo's letters to his sister and insisting on reading them out loud to her instead.

There were just some things he couldn't write knowing his father would read them.

But he'd just gotten one from her yesterday and in order to quell the guilt in his stomach he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and quill and set to write.

 _Dear Lily,_

 _How have you been? I apologize for not writing frequently; unfortunately I've become too engrossed-_

Wait, she was ten. Did she even know what it meant?

With a sigh, he scratched it out and continued.

 _-unfortunately I've gotten too caught up with my studies, as it is O.W.L. year, but that's no excuse for neglecting you._

 _You're lucky, you are, that you don't have to deal with this for a few more years!_

 _I hope you're doing well. How is Father these days? I'm sure it's quite lonely with just the two of you with the house-elves for company, but just a few more months and I'll be home for Christmas!_

 _You mentioned in your last letter you've met a new friend. That's great! I'd love to meet her over the holidays._

Lie, blatant lie, but she didn't need to know that. Well, while he wouldn't look _forward_ to meeting another giggling little girl, if she was friends with _Lily_ , he would have to…

 _Out of curiosity, how did you meet?_

Honestly, Theo wasn't a very talkative person, and this translated to writing letters. He wracked his brain for anything to add, but couldn't.

Eventually, he decided to finish it with a sentence of how he wished she were here with him and give well wishes to Father, please.

He was rubbish at letter writing.

Usually, when he was at home, Lily did most of the talking and he listened and it worked because they were together in person and her chatter usually filled any silences.

But that didn't translate well to letters, where both correspondents were expected to have a lot to talk about.

With another sigh, he stood up and made the trek to the owlery, quickly finding his owl, Arro, who was napping. Theo prodded the bird with his quill, who opened his eyes and blinked lazily.

Theo held up his letter and Arro stared, as if surprised Theo needed his services after not using him for two weeks. Theo merely sighed, used to his owl's behavior, and tied the letter to his leg.

"This is for Lily, okay?" Theo said, running his fingers through Arro's grey feathers. The owl merely stared at him for a bit more, expectant.

Theo rolled his eyes but rummaged his pockets for some owl treats and when he did find some, Arro hooted and jumped onto his hand, pecking at the treats.

"You're going to be too fat to fly one day if you carry on like this," Theo said, grinning. The owl merely ruffled his feathers, finished off with an affectionate peck to Theo's fingers, and flew off.

"Talking to yourself, Nott?"

Theo swiveled around quickly and felt relieved when he saw that it was just Fairchild.

He'd dealt with her before.

The girl had an amused lilt to her lips, indicating she was just joking, as she moved in from the doorway and called for her own owl. "Io! I've got letters for you!" She said, waving around a couple envelopes.

An owl swooped down from the ceiling so fast all Theo saw was a blur, but all too soon it smoothly landed on Fairchild's shoulder, holding its head high. Fairchild merely grinned and ruffled its head.

Theo was a little taken aback, considering how even Arro didn't present himself with such poise.

He quirked an eyebrow. "You named her after a moon?"

Fairchild nodded, a light red tint appearing in her cheeks, as she attempted to persuade the owl to let her tie two envelopes to its leg. "Come on, Io! It's just a short detour! I'll give you extra treats!"

"Who are they for?" Theo asked. Normally he would have just left without bothering to make conversation with whomever he ran into, and he truly didn't care.

But she'd annoyed him way too many times just by barging her presence into his life.

So what was the harm in staying and asking questions when she clearly didn't want to be questioned?

"Er…my parents and my sister," she said quickly, succeeding in tying one envelope to Io's leg. She attempted to hold the owl still to tie the second envelope. "Please, Io, just deliver this to Anne and she'll feed you, really."

"Do you normally have such troubles with your owl?" Theo asked, and her blush deepened. Maybe owls were good at sensing impurities. Maybe it hated her because of her blood.

"Er…not normally, but you see, Io tends to become angry with me when I've neglected her for a while," Fairchild explained, embarrassed. "It's, er, been a few weeks since I sent my last."

Ignoring that he'd done the same thing, Theo smirked. "Not writing home, are you? Decided your muggle relatives aren't worth it? Smart idea."

Fairchild's hands dropped to her sides, clenching as she stood straighter. The air around them seemed to tense, almost as if it had sensed the change in mood.

" _That's_ the first thing you jump to?" Fairchild said, crossing her arms. "Not, oh, I don't know, just me being forgetful and too absorbed with school, which is the more likely one, but you immediately assume that I haven't been in frequent contact because they're muggles?"

Theo shrugged.

 _Forgetful and too absorbed with school…_

Wasn't that exactly why Theo hadn't contacted his family as well?

So their reasons were the same.

So she was right, apparently.

"I suppose I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions," Theo conceded, raising his chin, "But it wasn't completely unlikely. After all, if I were you, I would've cut off contact, so I was just assuming your thought process worked the same as mine."

Theo was just telling the truth; he hoped it would lessen any anger she felt towards him. However, the moment the words left his tongue, Theo immediately knew this was the wrong thing to say, as she'd seemed to have reached her limits.

"Seriously?" Fairchild screeched, face turning redder, but out of anger rather than embarrassment. Io hooted and flew off her shoulder, swirling back to the roof. "They. Are. My. Family. If you had a family of muggles, you wouldn't cut off contact, because they're the people who raised you and you would have grown up feeling nothing but love for muggles, not hatred. Just like you insist on following your Death Eater father despite the fact that he kills people like me!"

Theo scowled. "That's not nearly the same thing. My father does what he does because it's necessary. Your family just exists, simply to produce an abomination of nature!"

"And your father just exists simply to rid this abomination of nature, is that it?" Fairchild retorted, gesturing to herself. "So I guess you lied to me, then, is that it?"

"I-what? When did I lie?" Theo asked, genuinely confused. Several owls hooted, as some were asleep, and glared (or, as much as owls _can_ glare) at the two of them.

"When you said you wouldn't kill me," Fairchild said, voice much calmer now. Perhaps she was learning, then, how to control her anger. "You lied. Because you _want_ your father to kill me, don't you?" She spat, her voice now quieter but much more venomous. She uncrossed her arms and stepped closer, challengingly. "I suppose you _didn't_ lie, then. You're much too cowardly to kill me yourself, so you're hoping someone else does it for you!"

"When did I say that?" Theo responded, taking a step forward as well.

"You didn't have to say it," Fairchild said, taking another step, "You implied it!"

Theo took another step, towering over her. "There you are, jumping to conclusions again. I suppose I can't fault you for not understanding a thing I say."

"That's your only defense, is it?" Fairchild hissed. "You won't even bother coming up with an explanation, because there's no way a Mudblood like me will ever understand!"

"Now you're finally starting to see your place. Good!" Theo said.

Fairchild turned even redder, anger seeming to bubble up over the surface. "And _you're_ too stupid to understand sarcasm. And see my place? What nonsense! My place is right here, because I'm just as much witch as you are wizard!"

Theo sneered, finally letting his emotions get the better of him. "If you really are a witch, you'd take my advice and drop your muggle family!"

"Why?" Fairchild said. "Why, are they not just as much my family as your family is to you?!"

"My family," Theo said, standing tall, "are all purebloods. What can you say to that?"

" _My_ family," Fairchild said, "is made up of the loveliest, kindest, smartest, _people_ I have ever known, and that is worth so much more than your so-called pure blood."

And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked away.

.

 _Stupid, stupid stupid!_

Lizzie fumed as she stomped away, refusing to give in to the temptation to look back, to see the murderous expression that was no doubt adorning his face.

 _I'm so stupid!_

Why? Why? _Why?_

Why did she think it was a good idea to yell at Nott again? And after she'd promised Hannah to try to be less confrontational…

Then again, _he_ was the one to mention that her parents were muggles, _he_ was the one to insinuate that they were less deserving of correspondence just because they were muggles, _he_ was the one who should've kept his mouth shut!

She clutched the letter to her sister, Marianne, in her hand. Io had taken off with the first one, the letter to her parents, and she figured the owl wouldn't be back for a while.

 _Oh well. What's a few more days added to the whole weeks I haven't contacted her?_

She was halfway down the stairs when she felt the energy leave her, slumping against the wall.

 _"My father does what he does because it's necessary."_

How could people like that exist? How could someone say that and legitimately, sincerely believe that it was truth?

How could Nott help her with her homework, act sort-of-friendly towards her, treat her at least with some semblance of respect, and yet still genuinely believe that people like her didn't deserve to live?

He'd said in his own words, she was an "abomination of nature." And yet it was only his words, not his actions towards her that betrayed his beliefs.

She heard footsteps from behind her and before she could hurry away she heard him call out.

"You're still here?"

.

Fairchild slowly turned around to face him, apprehension adorning her face. She still had the second envelope that she never sent in her hand, and she was decidedly staring at it instead of meeting his eyes.

Theo felt like rolling his eyes. He'd even waited a few minutes up in the owlery to ensure he wouldn't run into her coming down.

Did she want another row? Another round of yelling at him? Why was she still there?

Fairchild finally opened her mouth, still looking away. "I didn't intend to…" She exhaled and tried again. "I was just thinking. I didn't…I got lost in my thoughts…I meant to leave. Don't worry, I have nothing more to say to you."

She straightened up, finally looking him in the eyes, and he recognized that determined glint in hers. Before Theo could say anything, she turned back around and quickly descended the rest of the stairs.

It wasn't like he had anything else to say to her, anyway.

* * *

Theo headed back to the Slytherin common room, where he was accosted by Malfoy going through the hidden door.

"Where were you?"

"Library," Theo said, pushing past Malfoy into the common room.

"Zabini was just there and he said you left a while ago," Malfoy accused, trailing after him.

"Why do you care?" Theo snapped. It wasn't a good idea to snap at the Malfoy heir, but he was frustrated and angry and he had to take it out on someone, dammit!

"Avoiding the question?"

Theo inhaled deeply.

 _Okay, I'm calm._

"If you must know," Theo said finally, "I went to the owlery on the way back."

"Sending a letter shouldn't take that long," Malfoy pointed out.

Theo curled his lips.

 _Might as well tell the truth._

"Ran into a Hufflepuff," Theo told Malfoy. "Made her day worse, I suspect."

He purposely left it vague, knowing Malfoy would make assumptions to fill in the details.

Malfoy smirked. "And here I thought you were going soft."

Theo shrugged and was about to head to his dorm when Malfoy pulled him back by his arm.

"Not so fast," He said, gesturing to the couches by the fire where others in their year were currently sitting and talking. "You're always off on your own."

Theo heard the unspoken words: _What's wrong with you?_

There was nothing wrong with Theo. Really, what was wrong with wanting to be alone? But people like Malfoy would never understand.

Then again, as children of Death Eaters, they really should stick together, shouldn't they?

Theo sighed. Malfoy was a controlling brat, really. But he didn't have the energy to fight him, so Theo shrugged again, yanked his arm away from Malfoy, and followed him to a seat, dropping his bag by his feet.

"The Gryffindor Quidditch team hasn't been able to reform, have they, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson asked smugly, referring to the decree issued earlier today. To no one's surprise, the Slytherin team got permission to reform almost immediately; thanks to Malfoy, of course.

Malfoy shook his head. "I heard their captain went to McGonagall, but Umbridge is the only one who can give permission in the end." He smirked. "I wonder how Potty feels now, now that he can't do whatever he wants anymore."

"It's disgusting, honestly," Daphne Greengrass said, "how much he could get away with everything just because he's _Harry Potter_. I mean, what about the rest of us?"

This was true. Snape favored the Slytherins, but it was only fair considering how much favoritism the Gryffindors received from the headmaster.

"I heard the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams were able to reform, though," Blaise Zabini said.

Malfoy scowled. "I don't care about them."

"Who does?" Greengrass said, inciting laughter from the rest of the group, including Theo, who forced thoughts of a certain Hufflepuff girl out of his head.

"There's no one worthy of note from those houses," Zabini agreed. Crabbe and Goyle made sounds of agreement. That's all the two trolls were good for, anyway. They rarely spoke on their own.

"Except Cedric Diggory," Theo interjected, and he received a round of nods from everyone.

"Only because he died," Malfoy snickered. Theo wanted to disagree. Diggory was chosen as Hogwarts' champion; that had to count for something, didn't it?

"I wouldn't say that," Greengrass said. "He was smarter and more talented than the rest of them."

 _Fairchild is smart too…isn't she?_

Theo was surprised at his own thoughts. Why was she popping up in his thoughts now?

"That may be true," Malfoy conceded. "But that doesn't make up for the inadequacy of the rest of them. We'll beat them easily," he added, referring back to Quidditch, which made Theo want to roll his eyes. Quidditch was a great sport, but it wasn't everything. "And Ravenclaws are only slightly better, but they're all more focused on exams than anything else. So as long as Scarhead never gets his special privileges back, we can win the Quidditch Cup this year."

"Gryffindors are so loud, honestly," Parkinson said. "They think they're worth thousands of Galleons, when really most of them barely measure up to a Knut."

"Well if you ask me," Malfoy said, "it looks like Dumbledore is well on his way out of Hogwarts. Where will the Gryffindors be then?"

"They'll finally know how it feels to be pushed aside by the favorites of the headmaster. We'll be the favorites, for once," Parkinson grinned.

Theo tuned them out, pulling out a book, a riveting read on the origins of alchemy and the several branches of study that extended from it, one of which was potions. He always eventually ended up pulling out a book whenever with the other Slytherins, because their conversations were always so predictable. They almost always either hated on Dumbledore, Potter, Gryffindors, or just non-Slytherins in general, or they talked about Quidditch.

Oh, and Mudbloods. That too.

It got boring after many conversations revolving around the same things, moving neither forwards nor backwards.

Theo remembered the long conversation – no, discussion (argument?), really – that he'd had with Fairchild in the kitchens which felt like so long ago but was really just about a month ago.

Sure, the girl was deluded but…Theo found that few hours in the kitchens much more memorable than any time he'd ever spent with his fellow Slytherins. Fairchild had come barging into his life and disrupted his routine but…

She'd disrupted his routine. She'd swirled in like a hurricane and offered something else besides the boring sequence of his day-to-day life.

Parkinson called him back to the moment. "Come on, Nott, surely you can stand our presence for longer than ten minutes?"

Theo shrugged. "I apologize, this book is much more enchanting at the moment."

Parkinson laughed. "Why don't you just marry the book, then?"

"I just might, if you insist on keeping me from reading," Theo said wryly, focusing back on his book and letting the enriching history of alchemy pull him into its depths, so that he might escape the Slytherin common room and the real world for just a bit longer.

* * *

As soon as Lizzie returned to her common room, she was faced with Zacharias Smith right in front of her, grinning widely. Lizzie had doubted she'd ever seen him so happy; she was so surprised that all thoughts of Nott momentarily fled from her brain.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Lizzie asked, walking over to the door leading to the girls' dorms.

He followed, smiling even wider, and proclaimed loudly. "I got permission to reform the Quidditch team!"

"Really?" Lizzie beamed, genuinely happy for her house, and yes, for Zacharias too. "That's great!"

"I know," He said proudly. "I think the only team that hasn't been reformed yet is Gryffindor's. No wonder, really, considering how disrespectful Potter can be-"

"Oh, shut up about him, will you? He's doing his best," Lizzie said, her happiness fading away at his words. "It would be terribly unfair of Umbridge if they didn't get to reform after everyone else did."

"Yes, unfair, sure," Zacharias said uncomfortably, before recovering. "But we can start practice tomorrow, it's too late today, so…"

"Zacharias," Lizzie said, this time amused, "Since when are you captain?"

"I'm not," He said. "But that doesn't mean I can't help the captain make decisions, right? Anyway, I'm probably going to get the captaincy next year, considering I'll be the oldest on the team after everyone else graduates."

"Good luck, then," Lizzie said mildly, her confrontation with Nott earlier coming back to her. She could feel the anxiety pulling at her shoulders, the anger, the disbelief coming back in full force. "I'm going to bed. Night, Zacharias."

"Night," he replied in the same tone, already preoccupied with the next Hufflepuff who'd walked in, who just happened to be Megan Jones.

Lizzie raced down the hall to her dorm and flopped onto her bed, muttering to herself.

"Stupid, stupid, STUPID!"

"What's stupid?" Hannah, who was already there, asked.

Oops. She hadn't realized she had said the last part louder than a murmur.

 _Might as well let it all out_.

"Nott is stupid."

"That doesn't grammatically make sense," Hannah informed her.

"No, not the word 'not,' I mean the name!"

"Theodore Nott?" Susan asked, eyes shooting up in surprise as she sat down on Hannah's bed. Hannah shoved her over and sprawled on her bed, gazing questioningly at Lizzie, causing Susan to fall onto the ground. She glared at Hannah before launching herself onto Hannah's bed, landing on the latter's stomach.

"This is my bed, Susan!" Hannah groaned, shoving Susan off of her and pushing her to the floor again.

Susan sighed and sat up, settling herself on the floor between Hannah and Lizzie's beds.

Lizzie rolled over to face Susan and Hannah. She glanced over at the other three beds in their room. Leanne Williams, as usual, was curled up reading a book, plugs in her ears. Eloise Midgen and Megan Jones were still down in the common room.

"Yes. Theodore Nott."

"Did he say something to you?" Susan asked, concerned, while Hannah exclaimed, "What did he do?"

"He didn't _do_ anything, Hannah, calm down," Lizzie said. "And, well, I ran into him in the owlery, and we ended up arguing because _apparently_ he can't keep himself from insulting me-"

"What did he say?!" Hannah asked, alarmed.

"I-" Lizzie was struck with sudden reluctance to repeat his words. Because on the whole walk back to Hufflepuff's dorms, she'd calmed down somewhat. And while nothing would excuse the words he'd said to her, she didn't want to repeat them to her friends. To her friends, who would no doubt hate him forever based on what Lizzie told them.

And this was between herself and Nott. She wasn't always careful with what she said, but she didn't want her friends to make base judgements on Nott without even meeting him once. Because she knew that because of her anger, she might exaggerate what he had said. Even she couldn't remember exactly what he'd said, too blinded by her anger that clouded her memories.

And she also realized that she'd never told them about her several encounters with the boy. That she had some degree of familiarity with him, however small. Her friends deserved to know. Even Susan, who had become much closer to Lizzie within the past few weeks than previous years.

"Well, actually I've run into him a few times here and there-" Lizzie noticed Hannah's growing alarmed face and hurried to explain. "I mean he hasn't been…cruel or anything. Like I mean he helped me with my homework when I ran into him in the library a while ago-" At this, Lizzie noticed Hannah and Susan exchange looks before looking back at Lizzie "-and I mean I _thought_ he wasn't so bad and then today…well…you know I have a temper."

Hannah sighed. "You said something you shouldn't have, didn't you?"

"I did," Lizzie admitted. "But to be fair, he…insinuated something about specifically my _muggle_ family and I just couldn't help myself from getting mad."

"What did he say?" Susan asked, furrowing her brows as Hannah narrowed her eyes.

"Something about not cutting off contact with my family because they're muggles," Lizzie said, scowling as she remembered the anger she felt. "And he said it so matter-of-factly, and then genuinely seemed confused when I got mad, and then…well, I guess I was the first to raise my voice."

"Do you realize how stupid that is?!" Hannah said suddenly, startling the other two girls. "Why, when you know who his father is, would you purposely argue with him? For the heck of it?"

"I-no-Hannah!" Lizzie protested, but Hannah wasn't done.

"Arguing doesn't do anything, you know. Worst case, it makes him mad and he retaliates against you!" Hannah closed her eyes, inhaled, then opened them again, continuing in a much calmer voice. "And best case he just ignores you. Either way, you're the one putting yourself out there while he has the control of the situation. What were you thinking, Lizzie? And you say you've met with him multiple times?"

Lizzie cringed at Hannah's tirade, yet acknowledged the truth within her words. "I told you, it wasn't on purpose or anything. I ran into him-well, once I guess was on purpose. I tricked him into reading a muggle book-and he seemed ticked off by it but…nothing happened….I don't think Theodore Nott is the type to retaliate like that. If he was, he probably would've done something by now."

"And yet he still spouted pureblood supremacist views towards you," Susan said quietly. She looked up at Lizzie, concern shining on her face. "Stay away from him, okay? Hannah's right; yelling at people doesn't do anything. I mean, there might be a _small_ chance that your words get through to them, but usually, if the other person has no interest in having a conversation without devolving into insults and yelling, then that person won't change. If neither of you want to listen to the other and instead fight, then there is no point in trying to engage the other person."

"Wait a minute," Lizzie remembered, "We _did_ have an intelligent conversation once. It was back at the beginning of the year - but he talked and I listened and then I said my part too. And I think he listened too. I mean…it did devolve into sort of an argument but I do think he listened."

Hannah stared at her, while Susan spoke up. "Even so, I think you should stay away from him, Lizzie. So what if he might listen to you now? Are you just going to wait around for him? And you had an open, intelligent conversation once. But it sounds like nowadays all you do is argue. So if nothing will change, you should change the way you react to his insults."

"I…you're right," Lizzie conceded. "I don't know, I just – every time I run into him one of us will say something and then I _know_ I should just walk away and I think he knows that too but then my temper will get the better of me and I just _have_ to respond, just _have_ to prove him wrong."

"I understand the feeling," Hannah said glumly. "Sometimes, whenever I'm out with mum, people will insult her and I have the urge to yell in their faces, or, even better, just punch them, but I hold myself back because arguing doesn't do anything. If anything, it only shows that you are as degenerate as they say you are. If you hold your head high you can show that you are much more 'civilized' than they think. That you are not a savage."

Hannah's mum was muggle-born, just like Lizzie. Lizzie sometimes forgot that, because Hannah was raised in a mostly wizarding home and didn't have very much muggle influence.

Hannah's mum was basically the person Lizzie's parents feared she'd become; someone who left the muggle world behind and integrated fully with the wizarding world.

Would Lizzie do the same?

She didn't even know.

"You're right," Lizzie said again, pulling up her covers to her chin. "I really need to stop with this whole 'overreacting' thing."

"You do," Hannah agreed. "You're already a target; you don't need extra attention and yelling at Nott will do just that."

"Probably," Lizzie said, but she found she didn't really care. Probably because she'd already grown used to the idea of being a target; what was a little more attention in the grand scheme of things?

 _Whatever, I'll worry about that later_ , she decided as the tendrils of sleep claimed her as their own.


End file.
